My Side of the Story
by Navi.BLACK
Summary: Navi was an orphan who knew nothing about her past. When she discovers a whole new world that holds her future...will she ever find her past. And will she accept it if she does? OC story. COMPLETED! SEQUEL UP!
1. Chapter 1: Here I am

**Hiya. Navi here.**

**okay, so this is my first story, so be nice...ish.**

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**Chapter 1: Here I am.**

_**Natalie Gauci ~ Here I am**_

_I've waited all my life  
On the verge of something  
never really knowing what it is  
stuck inside a long night  
'till you broke through like daylight  
now I've found my place to land  
_**_here I am_**_  
__Oh, _**_here I am_**

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Hi, I thought I'd jump straight into it.

The name's Navi.

...At least, I think it is.

You see, I never knew my parents.

No family. No last name. No past.

I was dumped on the doorstep of an orphanage when I was about a year old.

The only thing left in my possession was a silver necklace.

A key which had the name _Navi_, engraved in an elegant script. Everyone just assumed that this was my name.

I kinda liked it though.

It had a ring to it.

So, when no one came back for me, I grew up here, an orphanage in Little Winging, Surrey.

Some people would go as far to call me 'pretty'.

I had pale skin that refused to tan, but wasn't a deathly pale.

I had raven black hair that fell to just above my elbows.

I was thin, almost unhealthily so. Blame the orphanage food.

But the thing about me that I loved most was my eyes.

They were ice blue. A colour that, I'm told, sent a chill through people when I glared at them.

And my life?

Incredibly dull. I was never adopted. Which was fine by me.

The kids at the orphanage gave me a hard time about it though.

I'd been there the longest.

The boys said I was a 'freak'.

Fair enough.

'Freaky' things happened when I was around.

Like the time I got really mad and my hair had a reddish tinge to it until I calmed down.

Weird things also happened when I was with my best and only friend in the entire world.

I remember the time our teacher's wig turned blue and he got blamed for it.

Or the time his cousin was chasing us and we somehow ended up on the roof.

I think this was my fault.

Just before as we jumped over the bins, I grabbed onto his arm and then there we were.

His name?

Harry Potter.

A scrawny boy the same age as me.

He had scruffy black hair that could never be groomed.

Trust me, I've tried.

He also had this awesome lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

He'd told me this was the only thing he liked about his appearance.

We were the closest thing we both had to a proper family. His aunt and uncle didn't count.

And they sure as hell didn't like me.

I was a 'bad influence'.

But Harry didn't seem to care.

He was always there for me.

Well, at least until he turned eleven.

Harry disappeared off the face of the earth for almost a year.

I spent that entire year in worry and lonely misery.

Then he showed up happier than I'd ever seen him.

He told me about he was now going to a boarding school and he'd made two new friends.

Ron and Hermione.

They sounded great.

Ron sounded like a goof ball, where as Hermione sounded very nice...and smart.

I couldn't help but feel a little jealous of his happiness, and the fact that he'd escaped this place for a while.

But he was happy. And that made me happy.

Soon afterwards, Harry was put on lockdown and then disappeared again.

Only showing up this summer.

He told me he'd had another awesome year.

"What about you?" he asked as we wandered around Magnolia Crescent together.

I shrugged. "Same old, same old. School was...draining. The kids there don't seem to get me. I don't fit in with anyone. How's Ron and Hermione?"

He grinned. "Yeah. They're good. Both holidaying at the moment though. Ron's in Egypt and Hermione's in France. I told them all about you. They said they'd love to meet you."

I smiled. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Hermione wants to meet someone else who actually _likes_ reading."

I shoved my best friend playfully.

At the orphanage I didn't get along well with the other kids so I took to hiding in my room and reading because there was nothing better to do.

And over the years I just of...grew to like it.

"And Ron...well...he's Ron."

I laughed at that.

"I still miss you though," he said to me.

I grinned. "Yeah, me too. We used to get into all kinds of trouble. Remember the time we ended up on the school roof?"

Harry laughed.

I took that as a 'yes'.

"I got stuck in the cupboard for a week!"

My gaze turned slightly sour.

Harry lived with his uncle and aunt.

His parents had died when he was the same age I was when I was abandoned.

I arrived at the orphanage only a couple of weeks Harry was given to his aunt and uncle.

Said people didn't like me much.

Apparently, Harry's cousin Dudley, had told them that I was a freak.

Cue eye roll.

I shook my head from the memories and grinned. "But it was a pretty good view."

Harry and me laughed together at this.

"Well," I told him. "There's some 'important' people coming to the orphanage, so I'll have to wait for them to leave before I wish you a happy birthday."

He looked down. "It doesn't matter. It's just a birthday."

I whacked him on the back of the head.

"I don't have one, be grateful."

He mumbled something I didn't catch and I hugged him goodbye before heading back to the orphanage.

I waltzed inside the building and walked up the stairs to the room that I shared with a few of the younger girls.

Madam Rogers thought it would be good for them to have an older girl around for them to go to if they had nightmares.

But what about me?

Every night I had the same dream.

There was a flash of green light and a woman's scream.

That was it.

But it was enough for me to wake up in a cold sweat.

When I woke up I crawled out of bed before the others woke up and went downstairs to help the cook prepare the food.

She was a nice woman.

"Thank you so much Navi," she said to me. "I'd be lost without you."

I smiled at her. "No problem. It gives me something to do."

It was like this every morning.

She'd tell me that I was her saviour, I would dismiss it, and then she would later give me some money for the help.

That's just how it worked.

It gave me good waitressing skills though.

When everyone was up I dished out the food before I took mine outside to eat in peace and quiet.

The girls, I could handle.

They all seemed to stay away from me.

But the boys...

"Hey freak!"

Well, just wait and see.

I ignored the yell, knowing it was for me.

"When are going to realise it freak?" one of the boys, Kevin, said. "No one wants you."

I rolled my eyes.

Their insults could do with some imagination.

When the 'important' people arrived, I was to show them around.

Show them the kids.

They were adopting.

"How long have you been here?" the woman asked me kindly.

"Around 12 years," I answered. "Pretty much my whole life."

Her eyes widened.

I showed her and her husband the girls when they decided they'd made their choice.

I showed them back downstairs and Madam Rogers told me I could leave.

Not that I listened.

I decided to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Did you find what you're looking for?"

"Navi seems lovely," the lady spoke. "But that Adly was absolutely adorable."

I froze at my name.

No, I couldn't leave.

The couple lived ages away from here.

I couldn't abandon this place.

Harry lived here.

I couldn't do that to him.

I can't leave.

I just can't.

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**End of Chapter 1.**

**...So...how'd i do?**

**Oh, and there's a pic of Navi on profile.**

**Review please...my life will become much happier.**

**Flames are for flamethrowers.**

**:)**

**I HAVE DECIDED TO ACTUALLY NAME MY CHAPTERS!**


	2. Chapter 2: She Walked Away

_**A/N: Okay, so here's chapter 2 for my story.**_

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_**Previously:**_"Navi seems lovely," the lady spoke. "But that Adly was absolutely adorable."

_I froze at my name._

_No, I couldn't leave._

_The couple lived ages away from here._

_I couldn't abandon this place._

_Harry lived here._

_I couldn't do that to him._

_I can't leave._

_I just can't.

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_

**Chapter 2: She Walked Away.

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**

_**Barlow Girl ~ She Walked Away**_

_She couldn't take one more day  
Home was more her prison now  
Independence called out  
She had to get it_

_A fight was all she needed  
To give her reason  
She slammed the door with no goodbye  
And knew that it was time_

_Now she's driving too fast  
She didn't care to glance behind  
And through her tears she laughed  
It's time to kiss the past goodbye_

_I'm finally on my own  
Don't try to tell me no  
There's so much more for me  
Just watch what I will be_

_She walked away  
Couldn't say why she was leaving  
She walked away  
She left all she had believed in  
She walked away

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_My breathing was coming in sharp bursts and I felt a range of emotions.

Denial. Sadness. _Anger_.

Well, more like fury.

It was like I could feel it flowing through my veins.

And I couldn't hold it in.

It exploded out of me and I heard the sound of glass shattering and I looked up in surprise.

All of the glass around me had just..._exploded_.

Well, _that's_ never happened before.

In my panic I jumped away from the door and took off out of the orphanage into the street.

I realised it was dark, but I didn't really care.

I just ran.

I ran all the way to Magnolia Crescent where I saw Harry sitting on a trunk.

And he had a...Is that a _broom_?

"Harry!" I called out in panic.

His head snapped up to meet mine.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said tearfully. "I don't know what happened. It was...I was just so _angry_. And..and then the glass...am I insane?" I was in a full on panic.

Harry put his hands on my shoulders to calm me down.

"Slow down," he told me. "Now, what happened?"

I blinked. "I smashed all the glass in the orphanage."

His eyebrows rose. "Why would you-?"

I cut him off. "I blew up the glass with my freakin' _mind_, Harry! I was angry and then suddenly there's glass everywhere."

He was gaping at me.

"You did magic?" he asked in shock.

Magic?

"Yeah," I said slowly, taking the word in. "Yeah, I guess that word explains it."

"Wow," he said. "And all this time I thought you were a muggle."

"Huh?"

He shot me a look that clearly said 'I'll explain later'.

I nodded and sat down on the gutter.

"Okay, so I did magic. That's a totally normal and sane thing for someone to do."

Harry laughed at me and I glared up at him.

I heard a low growling and we both turned to face the sound.

All I saw was a pair of eyes that seemed somewhat familiar.

Harry then drew out a stick.

What the hell was he going to do?

Throw it?

He muttered something and the end of said stick lit up.

He held out the glowing stick high above his head.

I think the growling thing was a dog.

A very big, black dog.

Cool.

Harry stepped back, tripping over his trunk.

The glowing stick/wand thing flew out of his grasp and he joined me on the gutter.

A deafening BANG was heard and a bus suddenly appeared in front of us.

It had gold lettering on the windscreen, which made up the words 'The Knight Bus'.

A conductor in a purple uniform came out of the bus and spoke loudly.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor for this eve-"

The conductor stopped when he saw Harry and me sprawled on the ground.

He looked around 19, and had a fair few pimples on his face.

Harry grabbed his stick/wand thing and scrambled to his feet.

"What were you doin' down there?" he asked us.

"Fell over," said Harry.

"'Choo fall over for?" sniggered Stan.

I was still blank with shock.

"I didn't do it on purpose," said Harry, annoyed.

I shook my head to clear my head and slowly stood up.

"'Choo lookin' at?"

I glanced over to Harry and saw that he was looking over at where that dog/thing was.

"There was a big black thing," Harry said, pointing at the gap uncertainly. "Like a dog...but massive."

Harry turned back to face Stan, whose eyes moved to Harry's scar.

"Woss that in your 'ead?" Stan asked.

"Nothing," Harry said quickly, attempting to flatten his hair.

"Woss your name?" Stan asked, I had a feeling that I was forgotten.

"Neville Longbottom," Harry told the guy.

What?

"I'm Holly Williams," I said, Harry obviously didn't want this guy to pay too much attention to him.

I zoned out after that.

Harry had a lot of explaining to do.

He seemed to know what was going on.

How come I can suddenly do magic.

Why is it that- what'd I miss?

Harry handed some funny looking coins to Stan and helped Stan put his trunk on the bus.

I turned to Harry with narrowed eyes.

"I'll explain later," he muttered.

On the bus there were no seats. Just a whole heap of beds.

I'm not even going to ask.

"You can 'ave these two," whispered Stan as he shoved Harry's trunk under one of the beds, right behind the driver. "This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is 'Ayley and Neville, Ern."

The driver nodded to us.

"Take 'er away, Ern," said Stan.

There was a loud BANG and I was thrown backwards onto the bed as the bus lurched forward.

I pulled myself and looked out the window.

We were on a completely different street.

Yeah, okay, I'm just going to go along with it.

"How come muggles don't see the bus?" asked Harry.

Again, with that word.

While I was thinking of multiple things, Stan pulled out a newspaper of some sort.

On the front page was a moving picture of a sunken-faced man with horrible hair.

He looked kind of familiar.

"That man!" said Harry. "He was on the muggle news!"

I tilted my head to look at the picture in a different perspective.

The guy looked familiar.

But I couldn't place it.

Stan turned turned to the front page and chuckled.

"Sirius Black, 'course he was on the muggle news, Neville. Where you been?"

I rolled my eyes as Stan handed Harry the paper.

"You oughta read the papers more Neville."

I watched as Harry read.

"Scary-lookin' fing, inee?" said Stan.

"He murdered _thirteen people_?" Harry asked, "with _one curse_?"

Just go along with it Nave.

"Yep," Stan said. "In front of witnesses an' all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused it cause, dinnit, Ern?"

"Ar," the driver said darkly.

_Ahoy_, I though sarcastically.

Stan swivelled back to face us.

"Black was a big supporter of You-Know-'Oo."

No, I don't.

"What, Voldemort?" Harry asked.

He'd clearly said the wrong thing because even Stan's pimples went white and Ern jerked the steering wheel, making a whole farmhouse jump aside to avoid the bus.

"You outta your tree?" yelped Stan. "'Choo say his name for?"

Harry then apologised and made some excuse.

Stan then went on to tell us about what Sirius Black did.

He killed a wizard and a dozen 'muggles' who happened to be in the way.

Then laughed.

He sounds charming...

Oh, and now he's broken out of a wizarding prison (First ever to do so).

Great.

A psycho out for blood.

Just what I needed to hear. Note the sarcasm people.

One by one, the people on the bus slowly began to disembark the bus.

They looked happy to go though.

Can't say I blame them.

Until it was just Harry and me left.

"Right then," said Stan as he clapped his hands. "Where-abouts in London you two headed?"

"Diagon Alley," Harry told him.

Wherever that was.

"Righto," said Stan, "'old tight, then..."

BANG

And we were off again.

Harry seemed deep in thought so I let him be as I looked out the window.

What the hell was going on?

Wizards and witches were real?

Was _I_ one?

Harry definitely was.

My life was getting more interesting as the day went on.

Well, night.

It was starting to get light now.

The bus finally lurched to a stop in front of a shabby looking pub.

"Thanks," Harry told Ern.

I stepped off the bus and noticed a portley little man by the entrance.

"_There_ you are, Harry," the man said.

He put a hand on Harry's shoulder, me forgotten...again.

"What didja call Neville, Minister?" Stan said exitedly.

Okay, the minister...of what exactly?

As Stan was busy jumping for joy at knowing Harry's name, the 'minister' said, "Yes. Well I'm very glad the night bus picked Harry up, but he and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldren now.."

"What about Navi?" Harry asked.

"Who?" the minister turned to see me standing there awkwardly. "Who are you?" he asked me.

"Navi," I said slowly.

Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry," the minister said. "I don't follow."

I scratched my head. "Well, long and funny story short. I got angry, some glass exploded, ran into an old friend, and-"

"That was you then?" interrupted the minister.

"Huh?" I asked.

"The orphanage. We've been trying to find the culprit for hours."

I gave a nervous laugh. "Yeah, that would be me."

His eyes narrowed. "How old are you?"

"Thirteen, sir," I said.

His eyebrows rose and he ushered us inside.

He ordered two rooms and told me to wait in one saying that 'someone would be in shortly' to speak with me.

Before I had too much time to think a man suddenly popped into the room with a crack, making me leapt about ten feet into the air with a scream.

The man seemed elderly with half-moon glasses and a really long beard.

"Apologies," he said to me. "I just received a message from Fudge about your situation miss-" he paused, waiting for my name.

"Navi," I said, blinking and looking at him as if he'd bite me.

His eyes did this odd twinkling thing.

He asked me what happened and I told him.

He then asked if anything like this had happened before.

I told him about the weird things that had been happening to and around me for years.

He then went on to tell me that his name was 'Albus Dumbledore' and that he was headmaster at 'Hogwarts', a school for wizards and witches. He told me that I must have gone 'under the radar', so to speak, and that they had obviously missed that I was magical.

I was asked how I knew Harry, and whether I would like to attend the school.

In my shock I just blinked and stared as he chuckled slightly and reached into his robes, pulling out an 'acceptance' letter.

He told me that he thought I would catch up to the other students soon enough, so I was allowed ot stay in the same year as Harry and his friends.

He'd also answered all the questions I had.

Including 'and who the hell is 'you-know-who'? Because I don't.'

He gave a small chuckle and told me that he was a really bad wizard who got a lot of innocent people killed. And to call him 'Voldemort'.

He gave me an 'acceptance letter' which had a list of equipment I would need.

"But sir," I began, "I don't exactly have any money."

His eyes twinkled again and he gazed down at my necklace.

"I'm sure that's not the case."

I was confused but he disappeared with a CRACK before I could ask.

I collapsed on the bed after he left.

"What a weird day."

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_**End of chapter 2.**_

_**Okay, so, this chapter's done and dusted...hopefully Navi's not coming off as a huge mary-sue...**_

_**Reviews make updates happen so much faster...just clueing you in.**_

_**xoxo hope you like my story :).**_

_**Naves.**_


	3. Chapter 3: A Whole New World

**_A/N: *sniffs*...nobody's reviewed yet..._**

**_I feel so unloved..._**

**_Well, here's the third chapter._**

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**Chapter 3**

When I woke I was confused as to were I was until I remembered what had happened and I rushed out of the room to find Harry and tell him what had happened.

He was really excited when I told him that I was going to go to the same school as him.

My usually calm best friend was literally jumping up and down at the news.

Very un-Harry-like.

Although, I was just as excited, if not more.

He told me the whole story of his time at Hogwarts and dragged me to 'Gringotts', the wizarding bank.

The goblins were kind of...scary.

And short.

Not that I mentioned this out loud.

I liked my head where it was.

When I showed them my key the goblin seemed intrigued.

We went to Harry's vault first.

Mine was apparently on the lower levels.

Odd.

When we reached my vault I saw that it was just as full as Harry's, if not more.

Harry seemed surprised but told me how much I would need.

Which didn't really dent the fund.

We set off together but I ditched him at the wand shop because he seemed uncomfortable about the place.

I entered the shop and was greeted by an old man with wide pale eyes.

"A little late for your first wand is it not?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Just a bit."

He nodded and disappeared into the shop, coming back with a dozen or so boxes of wands.

It seemed that everyone I tried wasn't good enough because he snatched each of them just as soon as I held them.

I must have tried half the shop before I felt a warmth spread through my fingers.

Ollivander was positively beaming.

"How interesting," he said to himself. "The first wand I make with the hair of a siren goes to you. You must be destined for great things."

I nodded. Yeah, sure. Whatever you say pal.

I paid for the wand and wandered back out of the shop.

He seemed pretty nice. I had no idea why Harry wouldn't like him.

I next visited the Florish and Blotts, a book shop.

The assistant whimpered when I told him I needed the 'Monster Book of Monsters'.

I met back up with Harry at the Leaky Cauldre.

Harry and me spent the next several days shopping and he was 'teaching' me what he'd learnt over the past two years.

Yeah, I had a crash course in wizardry 101 by my best friend.

I also met a few of his classmates.

There was Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, who we met in Quality Quidditch Supplies.

They seemed nice, and they greeted me enthusiastically.

Harry seemed to spend a lot of time eyeing the newest broomstick to come out.

The fastest in the world.

Nice.

Harry had told me all about Quidditch as well as the members on his team at Hogwarts.

I grinned. "Finally found your sport? What happened to track?"

He rolled his eyes and shoved me playfully.

Our little inside joke.

Mainly because when we were younger we used to race when Harry's cousin Dudley and his gang would try and beat us up.

Every day Harry would keep an eye out for his friends, Ron and Hermione, but they never showed.

At least not until the last day of the holidays.

Harry and me were wandering around when I heard someone call his name.

"Harry! HARRY!"

I saw two people sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour.

One was an incredibly freckly red-head...obviously Ron.

The other was a fairly tanned girl who had bushy brown hair...Hermione.

Harry grabbed my hand and dragged me over to them.

Hermione smiled at me, but I saw the confusion in her eyes. "Hi, you must be Navi. Harry's told me so much about you."

I grinned. "Hopefully not too much."

Ron stuck his hand out.

"Ron Weasley."

I shook his hand. "Navi."

Hermione also shook my hand and formally introduced herself.

The then started talking to Harry about the fact that he blew up his aunt Marge.

When he first old me I burst out laughing and didn't stop for about 10 whole minutes.

"Your dad doesn't know why Fudge let me off, does he?" Harry asked Ron.

His dad worked for the Ministry of Magic, the wizarding government.

"Probably 'cause it's you, isn't it?" shrugged Ron. "Famous Harry Potter and all that. I'd hate to see what the Ministry'd do to _me_ if I blew up an aunt. Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because mum would've killed me. Anyway, you can ask Dad yourself this evening. We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight, too! So you two can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow! Hermione's there as well!"

They then started started talking about school subjects when Hermione turned to me.

"So, do you know what house you'll be in?"

I shook my head. "Nah. Dumbledore said they'd sort me when I get there."

They all nodded and we headed off to the Magical Menagerie across the street.

Not that there was much room for us.

I took to admiring the owls.

Not that I was going to get one. I had no one to write too in the first place.

I decided to wait outside for them, knowing that no one else would've fit into the shop.

Soon enough, Ron's rat, Scabbers, came tearing out of the shop, Ron racing after him.

It took us nearly ten minutes to find him, who was hiding under a wastepaper bin outside Quality Quidditch Supplies.

Ron shoved the rat into his pocket.

"What _was_ that?" he asked Harry.

Harry shrugged. "Either a very big cat or a very small tiger."

What did I miss?

"Where's Hermione?"

"Probably getting her owl."

We made our way back to the Menagerie and Hermione came out of the place carrying an enormous ginger cat.

Ron's mouth dropped open.

"You _bought_ that monster?"

"He's _gorgeous_, isn't he?"

The 'cat' looked like he'd run into a brick wall with his squashed face.

Hermione and Ron had a mini argument and I just there grinning like an idiot as I watched the banter.

We set off towards the Leaky Cauldron, where we met up with Ron's dad, a red-headed man who greeted Harry kindly and smiled at me warmly.

"You must be Navi."

I nodded with a grin and he put his paper down.

Harry stared down at the photo of Sirius Black on the cover.

"They still haven't caught him, then?" he asked.

Mr. Weasley face was grave. "No. They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."

I frowned.

So there was still a mass murderer on the loose?

"-not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, you mark my words."

At that moment a red-headed woman entered the bar, followed by a pair of identical twins, an older boy, and a younger girl.

The younger girl took one look at Harry before blushing furiously and muttering a 'hello'.

She then turned to me and tilted her head.

"I'm Ginny," she mumbled.

I smiled at her.

"Navi."

Her eyes darted back to me in surprise.

Harry was shaking hands with the older boy, Percy, and looked like he was struggling to hold in laughter.

"Harry!" said one of the twins, elbowing the older boy out of the way and bowing. "Simply _splendid_ to see you, old boy-"

The other twin pushed the first one aside and grabbed Harry's hand. "Mavellous. Absolutely spiffing."

The older brother scowled.

"That's enough, now," the woman said.

"Mum!" said the first twin. "How really corking to see you-"

"I said, that's enough," the woman said as she put her shopping bags in an empty chair. "Hello, Harry, dear. I suppose you've heard our exciting news?" she pointed to a shiny silver badge on the eldest boy. "Second Head Boy in the family!"

"And last," muttered the first twin.

I snorted and everyone finally noticed me.

The older woman beamed at me. "And you must be Navi! Harry's told us so many good things about you. I'm Molly Weasley."

I smiled at her. "It's nice to meet you. And yeah, I'm Navi."

The first twin grinned at me. "Navy? Like the colour?"

I scowled. "No. N-A-V-I, with an I."

He continued grinning.

"Well, Navi with an I, my name is Fred Weasley and this is my less attractive twin George."

He gestured to said person.

I gasped in fake shock. "You're twins? I would never have guessed!"

They both stared at me for a couple of seconds.

"I like her," they said together.

"Leave the poor girl alone!" Mrs. Weasley scolded.

She then looked me up and down. "You poor dear, what have they been feeding you?"

I blinked in shock as one of the twins-Fred, pulled me into a hug.

"Fear not pretty lady, for we shall defend you!"

Mrs Weasley scowled at him. "You want to set a better example for her!" she snapped.

"She's got other people to set her an example, Mother. I'm going to change for dinner..." said Percy loftily.

George heaved a sigh.

"We tried to shut him in a pyramid," he told Harry and me. "But Mum spotted us."

I let out a small giggle.

I liked these guys.

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**END OF CHAPTER 3**

**A/N: i am sorely disappointed in you readers.**

**Seriously, just _ONE _review will really make my day.**

**It really will.**

**So, just hit that little button.**

**Please, i'm begging here.**

**...**

**Oh, and i just realised i forgot to add the disclaimer in chapters one and two.**

**DISCLAIMER: This is a _FANFICTION_ site. I own nothing. Except Navi.**

**xoxo Navi..**

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	4. Chapter 4: Dinner with the Weasleys

**A/N: I've realised that this story doesn't seem to show up on _search._**

**_Does anyone know what the hell is going on?_**

**Disclaimer: Navi is mine. Everything else is not. The end.**

**

* * *

Previously:**

_I blinked in shock as one of the twins-Fred, pulled me into a hug._

_"Fear not pretty lady, for we shall defend you!"_

_Mrs Weasley scowled at him. "You want to set a better example for her!" she snapped._

_"She's got other people to set her an example, Mother. I'm going to change for dinner..." said Percy loftily._

_George heaved a sigh._

_"We tried to shut him in a pyramid," he told Harry and me. "But Mum spotted us."_

_I let out a small giggle._

_I liked these guys._

* * *

**Chapter 4:**

Dinner was...interesting to say the least.

We had three tables put together, and the seven red-heads along with Harry, Hermione and myself ate our way through five courses.

I hadn't eaten so much in _forever_!

"How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" asked one of the twins-Fred, while we all dug into our absolutely delicious chocolate pudding.

"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," Mr Weasley told us all.

We all looked up at him.

"Why?" asked Percy, curious. I think we all were.

According to what Harry told me, Fudge didn't just hand anyone freebies.

"It's because of you, Perce," George said seriously. "And there'll be little flags on the bonnets, with HB on them-"

"-For Humungous Bighead," Fred finished.

Everyone, minus Percy and Mrs Weasley, snorted into their pudding.

"Why are the Ministry providing cars, Father?" Percy asked again, in a sort of dignified voice.

"Well, as we haven't got one any more, and as I work there, they're doing me a favour..." My Weasley said, his ears turning slightly red.

"Good job, too," said Mrs Weasley in a lively manner. "Do you realise how much luggage you've all got between you? A nice sight you'd be on the Muggle Underground … You are all packed, aren't you?"

Percy mentioned that Ron had 'dumped' his new things on his bed.

Earning the older brother a scowl.

Everyone slowly made their way upstairs and I went to my room to check my things were all packed neatly.

They weren't.

My textbooks were a mess along with my clothes.

I grumbled to myself and slowly sorted my things out.

I then changed into my pyjamas.

A pair of cotton shorts and a cami with an over-sized ratty t-shirt over the top.

I pulled my hair into a side-plait so it wouldn't be a total mess in the morning and gazed at my reflection in the mirror.

My ice blue eyes were alight with a fire I never knew they had.

I gave myself an encouraging smile and crawled into the bed, the smile still on my face as I drifted off.

* * *

The next day I was woken by Hermione, telling me to get up.

I rolled out of the comfy bed and fell to the floor.

"Oh, honestly," Hermione said in an annoyed sort of voice as she helped me up.

"Just give me a minute," I mumbled sleepily.

She gave me an amused smile and left the room.

I changed into a pair of jeans and a white long-sleeved t-shirt with a thin black cardigan over the top.

I made my way down to breakfast and was animatedly listening to Mrs Weasley tell Ginny, Hermione and me about a love potion she'd made when she was younger.

Leaving was...chaos.

Everyone was busy lugging their trunks down the stairs and piling them up by the door.

"It's all right, Crookshanks," Hermione cooed to her cat through it's basket. Said cat was hissing and spitting rather loudly. "I'll let you out on the train."

"You won't," snapped Ron. "What about poor Scabbers, eh?"

Ron pointed at a lump in his shirt where he was hiding said rat.

Mr Weasley stuck his head inside and told us that the cars were here.

I watched with some form of amusement as Mr Weasley marched Harry across the pavement towards a couple of old fashioned cars, both of them dark green.

He got in the first car and was soon joined by Ron and Hermione.

Percy also went to join them when I heard Mrs Weasley's voice.

"Percy, be a dear and let Navi sit with the others would you?"

I blinked in surprise and Percy walked over to the other car allowing me to slide in next to Ron.

He beamed at me.

I couldn't help but smile back.

Apparently, we made it to King's Cross with twenty minutes to spare.

The drivers found us some trolleys and unloaded our trunks onto them.

I stayed next to Hermione as we walked into the station.

"You just run at the barrier," she told me.

I shrugged. "Easy enough."

She sent me a perplexed look.

"What?" I asked her. "Weirder stuff has happened to me."

She gave a short nod in understanding and I watched as Mr Weasley and Harry leant casually on the barrier between platforms nine and ten before slipping into the wall.

Cool.

Percy and Ginny went next, taking it at a run.

Hermione went through with me.

At a run.

I almost ran into someone.

"Sorry!" I said to their back with a laugh as they stormed off.

When everyone else made it through Harry and Mr Weasley led us towards the end of the train, to a carriage that looked pretty empty.

We loaded our trunks onto it and then went to say goodbye to Mr and Mrs Weasley.

She hugged all our children, then Hermione, then me.

I was surprised but happily hugged her back.

Next she hugged Harry and started handing out sandwiches, while Mr Weasley dragged Harry away for something.

"Have fun, dear," she said to me when she handed me one.

I smiled at her. "I'm sure I will."

She beamed at me and then began to help us all onto the train.

"Arthur!" she called out to Mr Weasley. "Arthur, what are you doing? It's about to go!"

"He's coming, Molly!" came the reply.

I wondered what they were talking about.

"Arthur, quickly!"

The train had begun to move and Harry raced to the train and Ron opened the door to let him on.

We all leant out the window to wave goodbye to Mr and Mrs Weasley, until the train turned a corner and they were blocked from our view.

"I need to talk to you in private," Harry muttered to Hermione, Ron and myself.

"Go away, Ginny," Ron said rudely.

The youngest red-head huffed. "Oh, that's nice," she said sarcastically, and stalked off.

The four of us set off in search of an empty compartment.

They were all full except for one at the very end of the train.

It had a stranger, sitting fast asleep by the window.

He was wearing shabby wizard's robes and looked fairly ill.

He looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I'd seen him before.

I shook my head to get rid of the thoughts and sat down with the others, taking the seats furthest from the stranger.

"Who d'you reckon he is?" hissed Ron.

"Professor R.J. Lupin," whispered Hermione, straight away.

"How d'you know that?"

"It's on his case," replied Hermione, pointing at the luggage rack, where a rather battered case rested.

I snickered, earning me a glare from Ron.

I beamed back in return.

He rolled his eyes and frowned at the Professor. "Wonder what he teaches?"

"That's obvious," Hermione whispered. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Harry had told me that they had had two teachers for that position.

Apparently, there were rumours that the position was jinxed and no one could hold the position for longer than a year.

"Well, I hope he's up to it," said Ron, as he eyed the 'Professor' doubtfully. "He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway..." he turned to face Harry. "What were you going to tell us?"

* * *

My eyes were wide by the time Harry had finished telling us all that Sirius Black, the man that was on the run from wizards and muggles alike, was after him.

A mass murderer, was after my best friend.

Hermione's hands were over her mouth in shock and she lowered them, being the first to speak.

"Sirius Black escaped to come after _you_? Oh Harry … you'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble, Harry ..."

"I don't go looking for trouble," Harry said in an annoyed tone. "Trouble usually finds _me_."

"How thick would Harry have to be to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?" said Ron shakily.

I flinched at his words.

Why did it have to be Harry?

"No one knows how he got out of Azkaban," said Ron. "No one's ever done it before. And he was a top-security prisoner, too."

"But they'll catch him won't they?" Hermione asked. "I mean, they've got all the muggles looking out for him, too ..."

I heard a strange sound in the compartment.

"What's that noise?" Ron asked, before I could.

The sound was a sort of metallic whistle.

We all looked around for the source of the sound.

"It's coming from your trunk, Harry," Ron said as he stood up to reach into the luggage rack. He then pulled out a spinning glowing object that looked like a glass spinning top.

"Is that a _sneakoscope_?" asked Hermione, as she stood up to get a better look.

A what?

"Yeah … mind you, it's a very cheap one," Ron told us. "It went haywire just as I was tying it to Errol's leg to send it to Harry."

"Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?" Hermione asked.

So that's why it's going spastic?

"No!" Ron answered automatically. "Well … I wasn't supposed to be using Errol. You know he's not really up to long journeys … but how else was I supposed to get Harry's present to him?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Stick it back in the trunk, or it'll wake him up," advised Harry, as he nodded to Professor Lupin.

I looked over towards the Professor but he still seemed to be fast asleep.

Even with the whistling sneakoscope, which Ron stuffed inside into a pair of horrible looking socks that were obviously an old pair of Harry's uncle's.

Ron then put the socks back in the trunk and closed the lid.

"We could get it checked in Hogsmeade," said Ron. "They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff, Fred and George told me."

There goes my good mood.

If I had one anyway.

Both Harry and I spent our holidays complaining to each other about not being able to go the wizarding village.

I think we were both secretly happy that someone else couldn't go.

"Do you know much about Hogsmeade?" Hermione asked. "I've read it's the only entirely non-muggle settlement in Britain-"

"Yeah, I think it is," said Ron in an offhand sort of way, "but that's not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honeydukes!"

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"It's this sweetshop," said Ron. He had a dreamy look on his face. "Where they've got _everything _… Pepper imps – they make you smoke at the mouth – and great fat chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and really excellent sugar quills which you can suck on in class and just look like you're thinking of what to write next –"

"But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it?"

I tried to restrain my laughter as Ron didn't seem to hear a word of what Hermione was saying.

Finally she turned to face Harry and me.

"Won't it be nice to get out of the school and explore Hogsmeade?"

"'Spect it will," said Harry heavily. "You'll have to tell us when you've found out."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked him.

"We can't go," I said to him. "I have no guardian to sign the form in the first place and Harry's aunt and uncle didn't sign his form."

"_You're not allowed to come? _But – no way – McGonagall or someone will give you permission –"

Harry gave a hollow laugh.

"– or we can ask Fred and George, they know every secret passage out of the castle –"

"Ron!" Hermione scolded. "I don't think Harry should be sneaking out of the school with Sirius Black on the loose –"

"Yeah, I expect that's what McGonagall will say when I ask for permission."

I winced at Harry's bitter tone.

"But if _we're _with him, Black wouldn't dare –"

"Oh, Ron, don't talk such rubbish," snapped Hermione. "Black's already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street, do you really think he's going to worry about attacking Harry just because _we're _there?"

She had a point there.

But I hardly think that Sirius Black would just stroll into the middle of a wizarding community, surrounded with kids as well as adults just to try and kill Harry.

I tried changing my thoughts to a less depressing topic.

I wonder what house I'll be sorted into...

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**End of Chapter 4**

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**It gives me incentive to keep going.**


	5. Chapter 5: Voices in the Dark

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except Navi.**

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Previously:**

_"Black's already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street, do you really think he's going to worry about attacking Harry just because we're there?"_

_She had a point there._

_But I hardly think that Sirius Black would just stroll into the middle of a wizarding community, surrounded with kids as well as adults just to try and kill Harry._

_I tried changing my thoughts to a less depressing topic._

_I wonder what house I'll be sorted into.._

* * *

**Chapter Five:**

Hermione let her cat out of his basket much to Ron's displeasure.

The cat watched the lump in his pocket, where his rat trembled.

"Get out of it!" he said as he shoved the cat away from him.

"Ron, don't!" Hermione shouted.

Professor Lupin stirred and we all watched him apprehensively, but the Professor slept on.

"So Navi," Hermione said quietly, turning to me. "Tell us about yourself. You haven't really said much."

I smiled at her. "Well, it has been a bit hectic. To be honest … there's not much to tell. I've been at the orphanage for as long as I can remember. Madam Rogers tells me I was left there in July 1981."

Hermione frowned. "So, you don't know who your parents are?"

I shook my head and pulled out my necklace. "No, but someone who knew me was obviously a witch or wizard. This key opens up a vault in Gringotts."

Hermione seemed fascinated.

"May I see it?"

I pulled it off my neck and carefully handed it to her.

She held it up to the light and examined it.

"It looks expensive, I wonder who gave it to you."

I shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe I'll find out."

She smiled at me and handed it back.

"So what house do you think you'll be in?"

"Good question," I said to her. "I'm hoping Gryffindor, so I'll be with you lot."

Ron grinned at me. "Yeah, you seem like a Gryffindor to me."

I smiled back.

At one o'clock a rather plump witch came around with a food trolley.

I bought a few of the foods on offer.

The chocolate frogs were pretty cool.

Hermione and I talked about the lessons and what they'd learnt so far.

She filled in the gaps that Harry missed.

Considering the circumstances, I thought I was doing pretty well for myself in the 'sponging information' department.

Around mid-afternoon, when it had began to rain.

Three people appeared at the door.

One was a pale boy with hair that almost looked bleached, a pointed face set in a sneer. By this description, and the looks on Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's faces, this was Draco Malfoy. The other two were both wide and muscly; the taller one had a pudding-basin haircut and a thick neck, the other has short, bristly hair and long, gorilla arms.

"Well, look who it is," said Malfoy in a lazy drawl as he pulled the compartment door open. "Potty and Weasel."

Jerk.

His gaze turned to me with a smirk.

"And who are you?"

My eyes narrowed.

He seemed to take in my appearance with recognition.

I didn't get it.

His smirk widened and he turned back to Ron.

"I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," said Malfoy. "Did your mother die of shock?"

I gritted my teeth and felt the usual tingle in my skull whenever I got so angry my hair would get a reddish tinge to it.

Ron stood up and Crookshanks's basket was knocked to the floor.

Professor Lupin gave a snort.

"Who's that?" Malfoy asked, taking a step back.

"New teacher," I said, examining my nails.

"What were saying Malfoy?" Harry asked.

He'd stood up, I'm guessing in case tried to attack Malfoy.

"C'mon," Malfoy muttered to his bodyguards and they disappeared.

Harry and Ron sat back down again and I exchanged a look with Hermione.

"I'm not going to take any rubbish from Malfoy this year," Ron said angrily. "I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and –"

He made a violent gesture in the air.

"Ron," hissed Hermione. "Be _careful_ ..." she was pointing at Professor Lupin.

As the train continued north the rain got heavier and the light was fading as the sun began to set.

When the window was completely black, Ron, leant forward to look out the window.

"We must be nearly there."

The train immediately began to slow down.

"Brilliant," said Ron. "I'm starving, I want to get to the feast ..."

Don't mention food.

I'm hungry too.

"We can't be there yet," said Hermione as she checked her watch.

"So, why're we stopping?" I asked in confusion.

Harry, who was the nearest to the door, got up to look into the corridor.

When the train came to halt, I heard thuds, indicating that luggage had fallen from the racks in other compartments.

The lights suddenly went out and I scooted next to Hermione.

"What's going on?" I heard Ron ask.

"Ouch!" Hermione gasped. "Ron, that was my foot!"

"Do you think we've broken down?"

"Dunno ..."

There was a squeaking noise so I assumed someone was wiping the window to see something.

"There's something moving out there," I heard Ron say. "I think people are coming aboard ..."

The compartment door was opened, making me jump.

I heard the sound of someone falling. "Sorry! D'you know what's going on? Ouch! Sorry –"

"Hello, Neville," Harry said.

Oh, good, they know this person.

"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"

"No idea! Sit down –"

I heard a yelp of pain and hissing.

He'd obviously tried to sit on Crookshanks.

Hermione stood up and I moved over next to Harry.

Hey, when I'm scared, I get clingy.

Don't judge.

"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on."

I felt Hermione pass us and I heard the compartment door open again.

Then I heard a thud and two squeals of pain.

"Who's that?"

"Who's _that_?"

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron –"

"Come in and sit down –"

"Not here!" said Harry. "I'm here!"

"Ouch!" said Neville.

"Quiet!" said a hoarse voice.

Well, look who finally decided to wake up.

There was a soft crackling noise and firelight filled the compartment.

Professor Lupin seemed to be holding a handful of flames.

"Stay where you are," he said hoarsely.

He started towards the door, but it was opened before he reached it.

Behind it, illuminated by the flames, stood a cloaked figure.

The figure sucked in a breath, as if tasting the air for something.

An intense cold washed over me, in me.

I clamped my eyes shut and shook my head from side-to-side.

A voice interrupted my thoughts of fear.

_"Look, just take her and get out. They'll be here soon."_ The voice was male, but that's all I got.

_"What?"_ I heard a woman ask, her voice full of shock and disbelief.

_"They're coming for you. Get your daughter out of here."_

There was a pause where I heard nothing and then the voices started again.

_"I can't do that Heather."_

_"You have to take her. Protect her."_

_" I can't –"_

_"She's your neice! Make sure she's kept safe."_

_"But my brother –"_

_"He'll understand! Please, I need you to do this. Say...say that you killed her."_

_"What?"_

_"Please,"_ the woman, Heather, begged. _"Make sure she's hidden. Where no one can find her. _Promise _me you'll Protect her."_

_"I...I promise."_

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**Ooohh Cliffy...**

**Please Review...I know i keep asking...But it really does make my day.**

**So,please, just take ten seconds out of your time to do it.**


	6. Chapter 6: Confusing Glances

**A/n: Sorry for the wait ... i've been studying for my upcoming exams ... and i kind of need to pass.**

**Which i'm not at the moment.**

**...**

**Anywho, thank you Dani5683 for helping fix the problem with this story not coming up on the search thingy ... it's fixed now.**

**Virtual cookies for you :)**

**ON WITH THE STORY!**

* * *

_**Previously**:"She's your neice! Make sure she's kept safe."_

_"But my brother –"_

_"He'll understand! Please, I need you to do this. Say...say that you killed her."_

_"What?"_

_"Please," the woman, Heather, begged. "Make sure she's hidden. Where no one can find her. Promise me you'll Protect her."_

_"I...I promise."_

* * *

**Chapter 6**

I regained my vision and I brought my knees up on the seat and hugged them to my chest.

My hair and fallen in my face and I was shaking.

Ron and Hermione were on the floor trying to wake Harry up.

He must have passed out.

"W-what?" I heard him ask.

I couldn't see past my blanket of hair.

"Are you OK?" Ron asked, talking to Harry. He sounded nervous.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "What happened? Where's that – that thing? Who screamed?"

Did anyone scream? I didn't hear anything.

"No one screamed," said a nervous Ron.

"But I heard screaming – Is Navi OK?"

"Dunno," Ron said.

A loud snap made me jump and yelp slightly.

I moved my curtain of hair and saw Professor Lupin breaking a huge slab of chocolate into pieces.

He handed Harry a piece. "Here. Eat it. It'll help."

Professor Lupin then went to hand me a piece.

But my hands refused to move from my knees.

"It'll help," he told me.

I slowly reached out a shaking hand and accepted the chocolate.

"What was that thing?" Harry asked.

"A Dementor," Professor Lupin replied, handing everyone else some chocolate. "One of the Dementors of Azkaban."

"Eat," he told us. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me ..."

He disappeared out of the compartment and I finally let my knees reach the ground.

"Are you sure you're OK, Harry?" Hermione asked him.

I brushed my hair behind my ears and looked at him worriedly, I was still shaky.

"I don't get it … what happened?" he asked, wiping his face.

"Well – that thing – the Dementor – stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see it's face) – and you – you –"

"I thought you were having a fit or something," said Ron, still scared. "You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching –"

Hermione continued. "And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked towards the Dementor, and pulled out his wand. And he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the Dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away ..."

"It was horrible," Neville said. "Did you feel how cold it went when it came in?"

Ron shifted his shoulders. "It felt weird. Like I'd never be cheerful again ..."

Ginny gave a small sob and Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her.

"But didn't any of you – fall off your seats?" Harry asked awkwardly.

"No," said Ron anxiously. "Ginny was shaking like mad though, and Navi was shaking her head for a while."

Harry looked over at me. "You OK, Naves?"

I went to nod, but then shook my head.

Harry moved over so he was next to me and Ron sat on my other side.

"I heard voices," I mumbled. "There were people talking."

Ron looked at me and I jumped as the compartment door opened and Professor Luin came in, pausing at the door. "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know ..."

I nibbled on my piece and felt a surprising warmth coarse through me.

"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," he told us. He then looked at me. "Are you alright?"

I nodded and brushed the hair that had fallen back into my face out of it.

The Professor seemed to freeze for a second but then he acted like nothing had happened. "What's your name?" he asked me gently.

"Navi," Harry answered for me. "Her name's Navi."

The Professor frowned in thought.

We didn't talk much for the rest of the journey.

I calmed down and started to warm up slightly.

When the train arrived at its destination, everyone scrambled to get off the train.

"Firs'-years this way!" I heard a voice call.

I had no idea what to do.

No one actually told me what would happen when I got here.

I saw a stern looking witch looking at me with a sharp eyes.

"Miss Navi?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Come with me," she said.

I waved goodbye to Harry and the others, who waved back.

She took me over to a horseless carriage and we sped off towards the castle.

"Professor Dumbledore thought it wise to sort you apart form the rest of the first-years. To avoid any discomfort on your part."

I felt my lips twitch and nodded once more.

"Thank you," I told her.

She gave a short nod.

When we reached the castle she took me up to what looked like an office.

There was an old looking hat and she gestured for me to sit on a small wooden stool.

I did so and she placed the hat on my head.

A voice filled my ears.

"_Ah, yes. I have sorted many of your family over the years."_

_You knew my family? _I thought.

"_Yes_," he told me. _"Both sides of it in fact._ _But not now._ _Let's see … an intellegent mind, would do well in Ravenclaw … but what's this?_ _Ah, yes, much like your mother, I see._ _Well, then, better be GRYFFINDOR!"_ the hat shouted the last part out and the professor gave me a tiny smile.

"Well now, I am Professor McGonagall and I shall be your Head of House for the remainder of your schooling."

I smiled back at her.

"Wait here," she said to me. "I shall return."

And she disappeared through the door with the stool and hat.

So, I waited.

Finally she returned with Harry and Hermione in tow.

Harry and Hermione smiled at me.

I grinned back. "Looks like you're putting up with me for the next few years."

Their smiles widened and Harry gave me a hug.

"You're a Gryffindor!"

"Yep," I said, popping the p.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and we broke apart from each other.

"Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Potter."

There was a soft knock on the door and a woman came bustling in.

Hermione quickly whispered that this was Madam Pomfrey, the school matron.

Ah.

I took a sick pleasure in her fussing over Harry and letting me be.

She just ignored Harry's protests that he was fine and checked him over.

Professor McGonagall then asked the two of us to wait outside while she talked to Hermione about her timetable.

"Congratulations on making Gryffindor," he said to me once we were in the corridor.

I beamed at him. "Now it won't be as awkward."

He chuckled and messed up my hair.

I slapped his and away and brushed my hair through with my fingers.

"Now I look like you."

He laughed and shoved me playfully.

"I'm glad you're here" he said to me.

"Me too," I replied truthfully. "Me too."

A few minutes later Hermione and Professor McGonagall emerged from the room, Hermione looking very pleased about something.

We made our way down to the Great Hall.

"Oh, we've missed the sorting!" said Hermione softly.

Students turned around to stare at us as we walked past the and I attempted and failed to hide behind Harry and Hermione.

I sat down next to Harry and felt people staring at me, but I pretended to ignore them.

Harry began whispering to Ron, but broke off when Professor Dumbledore stood and the hall fell silent, awaiting what would happen next.

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**End of Chapter 6**

**... okay dokay. Hopefully it won't be as long as last time before my next update ... but no promises ... I need to study for Bio, Chem and Math Methods (Advanced maths) ... so, yea ... fun for me.**

**Reviews are appreciated.**

**It only takes like 3 seconds of your time.**

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**Just saying ...**

**Hooroo.**

**xoxo NaviBLACK**


	7. Chapter 7: My First Feast

_**A/N: Thank you to all my reviews, virtual hugs for you.**_

_**FINALLY! MY EXAMS ARE OVER!**_

_**I have now officially finished year 11, next year, i shall be entering year 12.**_

_**Yay for me!**_

**_Disclaimer: Do i look like J.K. ROwling to you?_**

* * *

**Chapter 7:**

Professor Dumbledore stood and I thought back to when I first met him.

"Welcome!" the headmaster said, his beard glittering in the firelight. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast.

I felt like groaning and hitting my head on the table.

_Please don't mention food_, I mentally begged. _I'm starving over here._

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry business."

Ministry business?

Why don't you just flat out say that they're looking for a psycho out for my best friend's blood?

Right, less words.

And more subtle.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds, and while they are with us, I must make it plain nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not fooled by tricks or disguises – or even invisibility."

Harry and Ron glanced at each other.

Of course.

The cloak that Harry had been given in his first year at Hogwarts. It had previously belonged to his father … making it the only possession he had that was a reminder of his parents.

"It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them o reason to harm you. I look to our prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs foul of the Dementors."

Percy puffed out his chest and looked around 'impressively'.

If this wasn't such a serious issue, I would probably be laughing at the guy.

"On a happier note," the headmaster continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.

"Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

The only people who clapped with any real enthusiasm, were those who were in our compartment, aboard the Hogwarts Express.

"Look at Snape!" I heard Ron hiss.

I frowned, but saw that a teacher who had a rather large hooked nose and extremely greasy hair was glaring at Professor Lupin with absolute hatred.

"And to our second new appointment, well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

I clapped and whistled along with the entire Gryffindor table.

"We should have known!" shouted Ron, pounding the table. "Who else would have set us a biting book?"

The four of us (Harry, Ron Hermione et moi), were the last to stop clapping.

"Well I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore, finally coming to an end. "Let the feast begin!"

The golden plates were suddenly filled with all kinds of food and I couldn't help but gape in shock at it all.

I had never seen so much food in all my life.

Happily, I dug into the food, answering a few questions by the people around me, allowing Harry to speak for me when I had a mouth full.

When the last of the dessert had been cleared from the plates, I was dragged from the table by Harry and Ron, over to the teachers' table, where we congratulated a red-faced Hagrid on his new position, before we were shooed away by Professor McGonagall.

I tried to memorise the route along the way through the castle, but there were just too many corridors and staircases to possibly remember them all in one go.

We finally reached 'Gryffindor Tower', where a portrait of a rather large woman dressed in a pink dress asked us for the password.

"Coming through, coming through!" came Percy's lofty voice. "The new password's _Fortuna Major_."

"Oh no," said Neville sadly.

Ah. Harry had mentioned soemthing in passing about Neville being rather forgetful.

Hermione lad me through the sea of people, up a flight of stairs, to a circualr room with four, four-poster beds.

"Looks like your staying here," said Hermione cheerfully, receiving a sleepy nod in return.

I yawned as I wandered over to the bed where my trunk lay at the foot and dug through it, looking for my pyjamas.

I changed and crawled into bed, a part of me still waiting to wait up, believing that this was all just a dream.

But I knew that no dream could ever be this realistic, and I doubted that my imagination was that good anyway.

No, for me this was all the beginning of a brand new adventure.

"Goodnight Navi," Hermione spoke.

"'Night 'Mione," I mumbled back before falling into a deep and dreamless sleep, waondering what the nest day would bring.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

When I woke the next day I grinned to myself.

For the first time in my life … I was a morning person.

Hermione and I met up with Ron and Harry in the common room and our quartet wandered to the Great Hall together for breakfast.

When we reached the Great Hall, I saw that Draco Malfoy was entertaining the Slytherins with what appeared to be a rather funny story.

As we passed, Malfoy pretended to faint and the Slytherins all burst out laughing.

I gritted my teeth and fought the urge to try and blow him up with my eyes.

"Ignore him," Hermione said to Harry. "Just ignore him, it's not worth it …"

"Hey, Potter!" shrieked a Slytherin girl who bore a remarkable resemblance to the pug that lived around the corner from the orphanage. "Potter! The Dementors are coming, Potter! _Woooooooo_!"

I glared at the pug-like girl and felt a smug sense of satisfactgion when her eyes widened in slight fright for a moment.

We sat down with the twins at the Gryffindor table and George … I think … passed us our timetables.

I had Divination first, then Transfiguration, which was followed by Lunch and lastly I had Care of Magical Creatures, the same as Harry, Hermione and Ron.

Let the day begin.

* * *

**_End of Chapter 7_**

**_A/N: TEAM SPAM! 2011 BMC school capitain._**

**_Reviews are love, and love means faster updates ;)_**

**_Navi out ... and she can finally spend her time enjoying her summer holidays._**


	8. Chapter 8: A Grim Subject

**_A/N: *sniffle* i have to go back this week for redemption_**

**_ I failed Biology because instead of doing the work i was thinking of Fanfic ideas._**

**_Not to mention that my teacher is hard to understand._**

**_Thank you reviewers ... you make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside._**

**_Or maybe that's the M&Ms talking_**

**_... either way, you're all awesome._**

* * *

**Chapter 8:**

Soon enough, the Great Hall started to empty.

"We'd better go," Ron said, looking at his timetable, "Look, Divination's at the top of the North Tower. It'll take us ten minutes to get there …"

We quickly finished off our breakfast, me somehwta reluctantly, I might a skinny little pale girl … but I love my food.

Especially this food.

We left the table and Malfoy did another fainting impression as we passed him.

"Git," I muttered, trying to ignoring the shouts of laughter.

The journey to the North Tower took longer than ten minutes.

None of our small group had ever been to the north tower before.

"There's – got – to – be – a – short – cut," panted Ron when we reached the top of a flight of stairs.

Now, I'm not what I would call 'unfit' but I think I lost weight just on the stairs.

This place needed escalators.

Very badly.

I looked around the hallway.

It was bare except for a single painting of grass. Just grass.

"I think it's this way," Hermione said, peering down the right side hallway.

"Can't be," Ron argued. "That's south. Look, you can see a bit of the lake out the window ..."

I rolled my eyes and rested my back against the wall, examining my nails.

Soon enough the portrait caught my eye.

The portrait of the grass now had a knight and his horse.

Okay, so picture that … whatever you're thinking … it's probably wrong.

The 'horse' was a fat dapple grey pony, and the knight was short and squat.

Judging by the grass stains on his knees, the knight had just fallen off the pony.

"Aha!" he cried, spotting our quartet. "What villains are these that trespass upon my private lands? Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!"

Okay, what the hell?

The knight tugged his sword out of its scabbard, and I watched with amusement as he tried to act threatening but the sword was too big for him, and a rather violent swing made him fall over onto the grass.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, moving closer to the picture.

"Get back, you scurvy braggart! Back you rogue!"

The knight tried to push himself up with the sword, but all this achieved was for his sword to be stuck in the ground of the painting.

After tugging on the sword a few times, the knight gave up and flopped back down onto the grass and pushed up his visor to wipe his sweaty face.

"Listen," said Harry, "we're looking for the North Tower. You don't know the way, do you?"

Nice Harry.

"A quest!" the knight cried, his anger gone. He clambered to his feet. "Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!"

Optimistic isn't he?

He tugged on the sword again and attempted and failed to mount the pony.

"On foot then, good sirs and gentle ladies! On! On!"

And then … he ran out of sight.

We hurried after him. Following the sound of clanking armour, every so often, spotting him in a painting up ahead.

"Be stout of heart the worst is yet to come!" he yelled, appearing in a painting of women in crinolines, who seemed rather alarmed at his appearance.

The picture hung near a set of spiralling staircases.

I would have given a breath of relief when we heard the voices of our classmates, as we climbed the staircase.

But, I had no breath anyway.

"Farewell!" cried the knight. "Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If ever you have need of a noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!"

"Yeah, we'll call you," muttered Ron, as Sir Cadogan disappeared. "If we ever need someone mental."

Well, if we ever need that … I think we'll be screwed anyway.

The staircase led us to a small landing, where most of the class was already gathered.

There were no doors, just a circular trap door on the roof, with a brass plaque on it.

"Sybill Trelawney, Divination teacher," Harry read. "How're we supposed to get up there?" he asked.

As if on cue, the trapdoor opened, and a silvery ladder was slowly lowered until it was right at Harry's feet.

Cool.

Harry went up first, followed by Ron, and then the rest of us started to climb up the ladder.

At the top was the weirdest room I had ever been in.

There were small circular tables which were crammed into the middle of the room, each surrounded by old-fashioned armchairs, and these little pouffe things. The walls were crammed with feathers, tea cups, candle stubs, tattered playing cards and silvery crystal balls.

All of these things were lit by a dull crimson light, from the lamps, which were covered in dark red scarves. It smelled heavily of incense and my lungs didn't like the heavy air very much.

Everyone began to speak in whispers.

"Where is she?"Ron asked.

I was wondering the same thing.

In answer to his question, a sort, misty voice, floated in the room through the shadows.

"Welcome," the creepy voice said. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."

The teacher entered into my line of sight and I raised an eyebrow in slight disbelief.

She was thin in the extreme, with massive glasses that magnified her eyes and made her look incredibly bug-like. From her neck dangled dozens of chains and beads, her thin wrist were covered in bangles and to top it all off, she was wearing a glittering shawl.

What. The. Hell?

"Sit, my children, sit."

I sat at a table with Hermione, Harry and Ron, plonking myself into a pouffe.

"Welcome to Divination," said Professor Trelawney, who was now sitting in a winged armchair by the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."

Was she for real?

"So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little that I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field ..."

Harry and Ron grinned at a startled Hermione and I suppressed my own smile.

"Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future. It is a gift granted to few. You, boy," she said to Neville, who almost fell off of his own pouffe, "is your grandmother well?"

"I think so," stuttered Neville.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you, dear," Professor Trelawney said to him and Neville gulped. "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way my dear," she said to one of the girls in my dorm – Parvati Patil, "Beware a red-haired man."

I gave a small snicker as she edged her chair away from Ron, who glared at me.

Fluttering my eyelids I beamed back 'innocently'.

He huffed and turned back to Professor Trelawney.

"In summer term, we shall progress to the crystal ball – if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us for ever."

The already quiet classroom to a tense silence at this pronouncement.

"I wonder, dear," Professor Trelawney said to Lavender Brown, another girl in my dorm, "if you could please pass me the largest silver teapot?"

Lavender stood, looking relieved, and passed the teacher the silver teapot.

"Thank you my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading, it will happen of Friday the sixteenth of October."

Lavender looked terrified, the poor thing.

"Now, I want you to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink; drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn upside-down on its saucer; wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of _Unfogging the Future_. I shall move among you, helping and instruction. Oh, and dear," she said to Neville, placing a hand on Neville as he went to stand, "after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink.

And, sure enough, no sooner had Neville reached the tea cups … the sound of shattering chinas could be heard.

Professor Trelawney handed him a dustpan and brush. "One of the blue ones, then, dear, if you wouldn't mind … thank you ..."

Hermione and I paired up with each other and we quickly got our tea cups filled and downed the scalding liquid.

We began to 'read' the cups.

I, of course, kept making stupid comments on the symbols I was seeing, making Hermione giggle, which, judging by the looks o was receiving from the other students, was not a common thing to see.

Ron was doing the same I was with Harry … only he was less amusing.

I heard Harry let out a snort of laughter and Professor Trelawney went over to them and snatched Harry's cup from Ron and began to read it.

"The falcon … my dear, you have a deadly enemy."

"But everyone knows _that_," Hermione said in a loud whisper.

"Well, they so," Hermione continued, as Professor Trelawney stared at her. "Everyone knows about Harry and You-Know-Who."

I bit my lip to keep from laughing and Professor Trelawney went back to the cup.

"The club … an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup ..."

"I thought that was a bowler hat," Ron admitted.

Professor Trelawney gave the cup one final turn and screamed.

Neville broke another tea cup and the Professor sank into a chair, a hand placed over her heart and her eyes closed.

"My dear boy – my poor dear boy – no – it is kinder not to say – no – don't ask me ..."

"What is it Professor asked Dean Thomas, as he, and everyone else, got up to take a better look at the cup.

"My dear," Professor Trelawney said, as her eyes opened dramatically, "you have the Grim."

"The what?" Harry asked.

I frowned, but it seems Harry and I weren't the only ones to not understand what was going on.

Dean Thomas shrugged and Lavender looked puzzled, but everyone else had horrified expressions on their faces.

"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" exclaimed the Professor. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen – the worst omen – of _death_!"

I winced.

We had both seen that dog at Mongolia Crescent.

Is that what she meant?

Hermione stood and edged around to get a better look at the cup.

"_I_ don't think it looks like a Grim," her voice was flat, not leaving any room for speculation.

The Professor obviously did not like Hermione.

"You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."

Seamus was tilting his head as he looked a the cup, as if trying to get a better perspective.

"It looks like a Grim if you do this," he was squinting at the cup, then returned to normal and tilted his head to the left, "but it looks more like a donkey from here."

"When you've all finished deciding whether I'm going to die or not!" my eyes snapped to Harry in shock, but this seemed to have to opposite reaction to everyone else, who went out of their way to avoid eye contact.

"I think we will leave the lesson here today," said Professor Trelawney in her misty voice. "Yes … please pack away your things ..."

The class silently gave their tea cup to the Professor and put their books into their bags.

"Until we meet again, fair fortune be yours. Oh, and dear–" Professor Trelawney spoke to Neville, "you'll be late next time, so mind that you work extra hard to catch up."

Harry, Ron Hermione and myself travelled all the way to Professor McGonagall's classroom in silence, taking seats near the back.

She began the lesson by talking about Animagus (wizards and witches who can turn themselves into animals), and even changed into a tabby cat right in front of the class, but I, along with everyone else was too shocked and worried about what Professor Trelawney read form Harry's cup to be amazed or impressed.

"Really, what has gotten into you all today?" she asked when she'd changed back into her normal self. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class."

Everyone looked over at Harry, and Hermione eventually raised her hand.

"Please Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading tea leaves, and –"

"Ah, of course," said Professor McGonagall with a frown on her face. "There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

I stared at her with wide eyes.

"Me," said Harry.

"I see," the Professor said, looking at Harry. "Then you should know, Potter, that Sybill Trelawney had predicted the death of one student a year since she has arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favourite way of greeting a new class. If were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues –" she broke off, and I was slightly relieved by what she was saying. Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney ..."

She stopped herself again and looked at Harry once more. "You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today, I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."

A lot more relieved, we continued with the lesson, and I only found it slightly confusing … but Hermione filled me in on the things I didn't understand and I soon grasped the content well enough.

At least I liked to think so.

* * *

**_End of Chapter 8_**

**_A/N: ... does anyone think i should add a couple of my rules from my other fanfic to this story to add a bit of humour to it?_**

**_Anywho, hopefully more of Navi's past and personality will be revealed as the story continues ...*wink*_**

**_NaviBlack out_**

**_see you all soon_**

**_...hopefully_**

**_*pouts*_**

**_REVIEW!_**


	9. Chapter 9: Dog Days are Over

_**A/N: No one's probably going to read this … but I'd just like to say that my heart goes out to the family's suffering from the tragedy of the Queensland floods. If you do read this and you're from Australia, or even if you're not, please, take the time to donate and help with the Disaster relief. Ever dollar counts**_

Chapter 9: The Dog Days Are Over.

* * *

Florence and the Machine ~ Dog Days are Over

_She hid around corners / and she hid under beds _  
_She killed it with kisses and from it she fled _  
_With e-very bubble she sank with a drink _  
_And wa-shed it away down the kitchen sink._

_The dog days are over_  
_The dog days are done_  
_The horses are comin' so you better run_

_

* * *

_

After Transfiguration we joined the crowds on their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

Ron still seemed worried about the whole 'Grim' thing though.

"Ron, cheer up," Hermione said, as she pushed a dish of stew towards him. "You heard what McGonagall said."

"Besides," I put in, "With glasses that thick, I'm surprised she can see anything at all."

Hermione gave me an agreeing nod.

"Harry," Ron to our scruffy-haired friend in a low voice, ignoring Hermione and me, "you _haven't _seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?"

I exchanged an annoyed looks with Hermione.

"Yeah, I have," said Harry. "I saw one the night I left the Dursleys."

Ron's fork fell with a clatter onto his plate.

"Navi saw it too!"

Ron's eyes seemed to widen even further.

I glared at Harry. He didn't have to bring me into this.

"Probably a stray," Hermione said calmly.

Ron looked at her as if she was completely insane.

"Hermione, if Harry and Navi've seen a Grim, that's – that's bad," he said. "My – my uncle Bilius saw one and – and he died twenty-four hours later."

"Coincidence," Hermione said casually, pouring herself some pumpkin juice.

I haven't worked up the guts to try the stuff yet.

It sounds kind of feral, to be honest.

I'll stick to my O.J. thank you very much.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Ron said angrily. "Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!"

"There you are then," said Hermione in a superior tone. "they see the Grim and die of fright. The Grim's not an omen, it's the cause of death!"

Is there a difference?

"And Harry and Navi are still with us because they're not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I'd better pop my clogs then!"

'Pop my clogs'?

What kind of expression is that?

Let's put that one away for later, shall we?

If you're wanting to know what the hell is wrong with me?

Well, you're not alone … I can tell you that.

I've been speculating something between bipolar and ADHD.

Either one seems pretty plausible to me.

Anywho, back down to Earth we go …

Ron was currently mouthing wordlessly at Hermione, who had propped her Arithmancy book against the juice jug, flicking through it to try and find her page. "I think Divination seems very woolly. A lot of guesswork if you ask me."

Ron bristled slightly, as if insulted by her comment. "There was nothing woolly about the Grim in that cup!" he challenged hotly.

"You didn't seem quite so confident when you were telling her it was a sheep," she shot back.

I snorted into my orange juice.

Woolly indeed.

I leaned over to Harry, and whispered, "Is lunch always this exciting?"

"Professor Trelawney said you didn't have the right aura! You just don't like being rubbish at something for a change!"

He'd obviously struck a nerve, because she slammed her book down on the table, causing bits of food to jump everywhere. "If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was rubbish compared to my Arithmancy class!"

She snatched up her bag and stalked off, dragging me with her, whilst muttering about stupid boys.

* * *

"So, how are you finding Hogwarts?" she asked me after she'd calmed down.

I smiled, "I love it. I know I've only been here a day, but I feel like I actually belong here."

Hermione's smile matched mine.

"Now all I have to do is find out about my family."

"Your family?" Hermione questioned.

"I didn't tell you?" I asked her. "The hat-thing told me it had sorted people on both sides of my family."

Hermione seemed fascinated, and after a bit of speculation, we came to the conclusion that, because the time I was ditched, there was a huge war going on, something must've happened to my parents.

They were most likely dead.

But a part of me really wanted them to be alive. But that would just keep the question that had been running around my head for the past twelve years.

Why did they just ditch me? Didn't they have a plan for me?

Was there no one left to take care of me?

And why did no one come find me after the war … or even when I was _supposed_ to start at Hogwarts.

~:~:~:

The boys soon caught up with us and we walked out of the castle and down the grassy slopes to the edge of the forest in an awkward silence.

Hermione and Ron still weren't speaking to one another, and Harry and I exchanged exasperated glances every so often.

Hopefully the lesson would be pretty cool. I mean, the book was … after I managed to find out the book's weakness.

Damn thing bit me twice before I figured it out.

This hope, however, was crushed when I saw three familiar Slytherins.

Crabbe and Goyle were chortling about a certain Malfoy was talking about … _again_.

I was sorely tempted to use my new (well, newish) skills against the blonde.

But I doubt that would be a good start to a lesson.

Hagrid was waiting at the door of a hut, I presumed was his house, with a massive boar hound on his heels.

I grinned at that. Yes, I was a dog person. Always have been.

Madam Rogers likes to re-tell the younger kids of the time o brought a dog back to the orphanage.

Said dog was bigger than I was at the time.

It was a Newfoundland.

I called it Tiny. Good times.

When it comes to me and dogs … the bigger, the better, in my opinion.

I hate those little yappy things. Chihuahuas, Pomeranians and the like.

They're rats in disguise, I swear. At least actual rats don't pretend to be something they're not.

And we've gone way off topic again.

"Come on, now, get a move on!" Hagrid called after I'd come back from my mental wander. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

He led the class around the edge of the trees to an empty paddock.

"Everyone gather round the fence here!" Hagrid called out to everyone.

We did as he asked and the boar hound trotted over to me and sat at my feet, allowing me to scratch his ears.

"That's it – make sure yeh can see. Now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books –"

"How?" came the annoying drawl from Draco Malfoy.

"Eh?" questioned Hagrid.

"How do we open our books?" asked Malfoy, pulling out his copy of _The Monster Book of __Montsers, _which he had bound shut with a piece rope.

HA! He couldn't get it open it open!

Turns out … neither could a lot of other people.

They pulled theirs out, all of them were bound shut tightly in some way or another.

Was I the only one who got their book open?

"Hasn' – hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?"

I stuck up my hand and people looked at me in shock.

"What?" I asked them.

"You've got ter stroke 'em," said Hagrid, indicating that this should have been obvious.

I felt quite smart at the moment.

"Naves," I heard Harry mutter, "I can _see_ your ego inflating."

"It's wonderful, isn't it?" I whispered back with a grin.

Hagrid grabbed Hermione's copy of the text and pulled off the stellotape that bound the book shut, and before the book could bite him, he ran a finger down the spine, causing the book to act 'normal'.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" sneered Malfoy. "We should have _stroked _them! Why didn't we guess?"

I grinned smugly. "I did."

The blonde glared at me.

"I – I thought they were funny," Hagrid saind uncertainly to Hermione.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" came the sarcastic comment from Malfoy. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry quietly.

"Righ' then," said a downcast Hagrid, "so … so yeh've got yer books an' … an' … now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on …"

Hagrid walked away from the class and into the forest, out of sight.

"God, this place is going to the dogs," Malfoy stated loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him -"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry repeated, louder than before.

"Careful, Potter, there's a Dementor behind you."

I growled but no one heard die to Lavender's girly squeal, and we all looked over at the opposite end of the paddock, seeing a group of creatures that had the body and hind legs of a horse, and the front legs, neck and head of an eagle.

I gaped, this was my first viewing of a magical creature.

One that I'd only read about in fairytales, or heard about in myths.

End of Chapter 9

* * *

_**A/N: I'd just like to say that everyone helped us when the Bushfires tore through our towns on Black Saturday, so please, help Queensland and donate to help disaster relief from the floods.**_

_**On a happier topic, please tell me what you think of my OC, Navi. Or my story in general.**_

_**For every review I'll add one more dollar to the Queensland Disaster Relief, so please, help out my country!**_

_**Xoxox **_


	10. Chapter 10: Just a Flesh Wound

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

**_

**Chapter 10: Just a Flesh Wound.**

Walking towards us were a bunch of creatures that the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, necks and heads of what appeared to be majestic eagles. They had sharp talons on their front legs, beaks that looked like they could sliced through a person's arm quickly, and intense amber eyes, that seemed to pierce the soul.

I winced I saw that they had collars around their necks that were attached to chains, that Hagrid was holding.

No creature of the sky should ever be forced to the ground.

"Gee up, there!" Hagrid roared, as he shook the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence to where we were. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

They were, I agreed. Their coats gleamed, and the change from feather to fur was so smooth you couldn't exactly tell where it changed, only that it did. And everyone of the Hippogriffs were a different colour.

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer…"

I don't think anyone really wanted to, to be honest, but Harry, Ron Hermione and I walked up to the fence with caution.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

I could hear Malfoy and his croonies talking in low voices, most likely planning how to disrupt the lesson.

"Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt."

"Right — who wants ter go first?"

Yeah, I'm fine right here thanks.

"No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.

"I'll do it," said Harry.

I actually rolled my eyes.

Of course you will.

"Oooh, no, Harry, remember your tea leaves!" Lavender and Parvati whispered, and I fought back the urge to snort.

Harry either didn't hear them, or ignored them as he climbed over the paddock fence.

"Good man, Harry!" roared Hagrid. "Right then — let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

He untied one of the chains, pulled the gray Hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar.

My breath caught in my throat as I watch the scene

"Easy now, Harry," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink… Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much…"

Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at Harry with one fierce orange eye. "Tha's it," said Hagrid. "Tha's it, Harry… now, bow."

Harry bowed before looking up at the Hippogriff, waiting for a response.

The Hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It didn't move.

"Ah," said Hagrid, sounding worried. "Right — back away, now, Harry, easy does it —"

Then, the Hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

I finally remembered how to breathe once more and I let out a sigh of relief.

"All right Harry!"

"Well done, Harry!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right — yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Obviously wishing he was over here instead, Harry moved slowly toward the Hippogriff and reached out toward it. He patted the beak several times and the Hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it.

I clapped along with the rest of the class

"Righ' then, Harry," said Hagrid. "I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him!"

My eyes bulged as I took this in.

I wasn't expecting this to happen.

Crossing my fingers, I prayed to God, or whatever the wizard equivalent was … if there was a wizard equivalent.

"Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," said Hagrid, "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that…"

Harry put his foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and hoisted himself onto its back. Buckbeak stood up.

"Go on, then!" roared Hagrid, slapping the Hippogriffs hindquarters.

Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry, he just wrapped his arms around the Hippogriff's neck in time before he was soaring upwards.

Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground; I was scared for this part.

If he was going to fall off … it was most likely to happen during the landing.

Luckily though, Harry seemed to be able to stop himself from sliding off.

"Good work, Harry!" roared Hagrid as everyone cheered. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

I quickly used the fence vault my way into the paddock and ran to Harry, pulling him into a hug.

"You're not hurt are you?" I asked, "because if you are, I swear I'll –"

"Navi?" Harry choked out, causing my worry to rise. "Can't breathe."

"Oh," I quickly let him go before looking him over.

He glared at me. "I'm _fine_, Naves."

Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and people started bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees.

Ron and Hermione practiced on the chestnut, while Harry and I watched.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful.

"This is very easy," Malfoy drawled, loud enough for me to, hear him. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it… I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the Hippogriff. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"

What. an. Idiot.

It happened in a flash of steely talons; Malfoy let out a high pitched scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.

_That's what you get_, I thought calmly. _Bloody git._

"I'm dying!" Malfoy yelled. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had gone very white. "Someone help me — gotta get him outta here —"

Hermione ran to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted Malfoy easily. Blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with him, up the slope toward the castle.

Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid.

"They should sack him straight away!" said Pansy Parkinson, who was in tears.

"It was Malfoy's fault!" snapped Dean Thomas. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.

We all climbed the stone steps into the deserted entrance hall.

"I'm going to see if he's okay!" said Pansy, and they all watched her run up the marble staircase. The Slytherins, still muttering about Hagrid, headed away in the direction of their dungeon common room (so I'm told); Harry, Ron, Hermione and myself proceeded upstairs to Gryffindor Tower.

"You think he'll be all right?" said Hermione nervously.

"Course he will. Madam Pomfrey can mend cuts in about a second," said Harry, confident on the nurses ability, having been on the receiving end of a fair few injuries himself.

"Besides," I added, "it's just a flesh wound."

No one understood my pop culture reference.

"That was a really bad thing to happen in Hagrid's first class, though, wasn't it?" said Ron, looking worried. "Trust Malfoy to mess things up for him…"

My eyes widened at this. "Do you think Hagrid will bed at the Great Hall for dinner?" I asked, hoping that he would be.

They were among the first to reach the Great Hall at dinnertime, hoping to see Hagrid, but he wasn't there.

"They wouldn't fire him, would they?" said Hermione anxiously, not touching her steak-and-kidney pudding.

Gross.

"They'd better not," said Ron, who wasn't eating either.

I don't think any of us were.

"Well, you can't say it wasn't an interesting first day back," said Ron gloomily.

They went up to the crowded Gryffindor common room after dinner and attempting to take a stab at the homework that Mcgonagall had set for us, but we kept distracting ourselves by glancing frequently out the window.

"There's a light on in Hagrid's window," Harry said suddenly.

Ron looked at his watch.

"If we hurried, we could go down and see him. It's still quite early…"

"I don't know," Hermione said slowly, and I saw her glance at Harry.

"I'm allowed to walk across the grounds," he said pointedly, catching her as well. "Sirius Black hasn't got past the Dementors yet, has he?"

We put their things away and headed out of the portrait hole, I was happy we didn't come across anyone on our way down, because any of us were too sure wether or not we were allowed out.

The grass looked almost black in the twilight, and was still wet, which annoyed me greatly as that meant my socks got all cold and wet. When we reached Hagrid's hut, we knocked, and a voice growled, "C'min."

Hagrid was sitting in his shirtsleeves at his scrubbed wooden table; the boarhound, Fang, had his head in Hagrid's lap. He'd obviously been drinking (Hagrid, not the dog), and I looked pleadingly at Harry.

I'd been at the Orphanage too long and had had my fair share of experiences of dealing with drunk people, none of them pleasant.

"Go on," Harry said to me, "We'll tell you everything later."

I nodded gratefully and quickly left, cursing my cowardice the whole way.

I waited for them in the common room, and actually managed to finish the homework McGonagall set us.

When the trio came through the portrait hole, I immediately jumped up and asked them what happened.

Apparently, everything was going alright, until Hagrid realised that Harry was there and had a go at Ron and Hermione, before escorting them back to the castle.

"Why'd you leave, anyway?" Ron asked me.

I shrugged. "I hate dealing with drunks," I told them. "I grew up in an orphanage. The older kids, boys in particular, tend to drink a fair bit. It's not pleasant to have to deal with."

Hermione and I soon disappeared up the staircase to our dormitory and I changed into my pyjamas before heading over to our beds.

"What was it like?" Hermione asked me. "Growing up like that?"

I shrugged. "It wasn't too bad, I guess. I mean, I know people hear stories of how orphanages are terrible, the kids get abused, blah, blah, blah. But it's not like that. An orphanage is only as bad as the kids who are there. Mine was pretty good. Aside from the fact that everyone thought I was a 'freak', but I had Harry, so I didn't really care. It sucked for me when he came here though. The first time, I was sick with worry."

Hermione let out a small laugh. "He said you might be. He said that if you were here this place would be perfect."

"It is perfect," I told her. "I've never ever had a home … but this place sure as hell seems like one."

"You've only been here a day," she reminded me

And what a day it had been.

**

* * *

End of Chapter 10.

* * *

**

_**A/N: Well, this is chapter 10.**_

_**Now, seriously people who read this … can I at LEAST ask for ONE review per chapter.**_

_**Now, that anyone probably cares, but this morning we received a call from my aunt and uncle.**_

_**They live up in Queensland, where the floods are … and until today, we hadn't heard from them in five days. They'd just been so caught up in everything that they hadn't a chance to call, but I am happy to announce that they are safe and sound.**_

_**I hope that many other people an have happy news like this, and my heart goes out ot the ones who don't.**_

_**Xoxo Navi out.**_


	11. Chapter 11: 4 Things I Hate About Hogwar

**Chapter 11: Four Things I Hate About Hogwarts**

There are four things I hate about Hogwarts. I just that that should be cleared up right now.

Those thing are:

1~ Homework (Seriously, who wants to do work outside of class?)

2~ Draco Malfoy (I'm Harry's friend, it comes with the territory)

3~ Slytherins in general (I'm a Gryffindor, Nuff said)

4~ Professor Severus Snape.

The fourth one should be explained, I guess.

This teacher, does not like me. Okay, cool, I can deal with that.

But he doesn't just not like me, he _hates _me. Not as much as he seems to hate Harry, mind you. But he hates me none the less.

And he doesn't seem to appreciate having to call me by first name.

His face twists everytime he says it. And I don't like it. He makes my name sound like a curse. And I _like _my name. I just don't like the way he says it.

I also think he doesn't like me because I actually seem to be good at Potions.

Personally, I think this is because this subject can be related to Home Ec., which was one of my better subjects back in the 'muggle world'.

And we're off track again.

So, the teacher hates me, and I have no idea why. Part of me thinks that the teachers, along with Malfoy and a couple of other people in Slytherin, know who my family is, but no one seems to believe that I'm privy to this information.

I find it insulting. Do I not have the right to know who my own family is?

To make matters worse, Malfoy decided that he 'felt up to' coming to potions on Thursday, right through the middle of double Potions.

Yes, _another _class that we're partnered with the snakes.

Hey, I'm all for trying to encourage inter-house cooperation, but this is a lost cause.

If the school keeps this up … war will happen. I'm sure of it.

Anywho, so Malfoy came waltzing in, his arm in a sling, playing up his 'survival' from the 'horrid beast'.

"How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy Parkinson. "Does it hurt much?"

"Yeah," said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But he winked at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had looked away.

"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly.

Somehow I doubt that would have been the reaction should a Gryffindor had come in late.

Stupid Snape. Head of Slytherin house.

No one likes a teacher who plays favourites.

And again, making matters worse, Malfoy had set up his cauldron next to Harry and Ron so they were preparing ingredients on the same table.

"Sir," Malfoy called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm —"

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," said Snape without looking up.

Red was now the colour of Ron's face, and I growled slightly, turning to my own potion, glaring at it.

"Professor," drawled Malfoy, "Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Snape approach their table, stared down his hooked nose at the roots, then gave Ron an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair.

"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."

"But, sir —!"

Ron had spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his own roots into exactly equal pieces.

"Now," said Snape in his most dangerous voice. I turned back to my potion, trying to shut out the voices around me so I wouldn't snap.

"And, sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," said Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," said Snape.

Next to Hermione and me, Neville was struggling greatly with his potion.

Harry had told me that this was a regular occurrence. Potions was Neville's worst subject, and his fear of Professor Snape didn't exactly help with things.

His potion, which was supposed to be a bright, acid green, had turned —

"Orange, Longbottom," said Snape, ladling some up and allowing to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see.

"Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one cat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears.

I'm pretty sure my hair had that reddish tinge to it again, but no one seemed to notice anything.

"Please, sir," said Hermione, "please, I could help Neville put it right —"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger," said Snape coldly, and Hermione blushed, turning the same colour as Neville. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

Snape moved away, leaving Neville breathless with fear.

"Help me!" he moaned to Hermione.

Both Hermione and me were muttering instructions under our breath, while Crabbe and Goyle laughed openly, watching Neville sweat as he stirred his potion feverishly.

I'd long since finished my potion and left Hermione to help Neville as I cleaned up both of our unused ingredients, and washed my stuff.

The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron.

"Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

I crossed my fingers and put them behind my back as I bit my lip and watched on anxiously, and Snape force fed the toad some of the potion.

There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm.

The Gryffindors burst into applause and I sighed with relief. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.

"Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, and I gaped. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

We walked out of the dungeons, both Ron and I were seething.

"Five points from Gryffindor because the potion was all right! Why didn't you lie, Hermione? You should've said Neville did it all by himself!"

Hermione didn't answer. Ron looked around. I did too.

"Where is she?"

Hermione had mysteriously vanished.

"She was right behind us," said Ron, frowning.

I too, frowned, something was up. I'd ambush her about it sooner or later.

Malfoy passed them, walking between Crabbe and Goyle. I glared at the back of his bleach-blonde hair.

"There she is," said Harry.

Hermione was panting slightly, hurrying up the stairs; one hand clutched her bag, the other seemed to be tucking something down the front of her robes.

"How did you do that?" said Ron.

"What?" said Hermione, joining them.

"One minute you were right behind us, the next moment, you were back at the bottom of the stairs again."

"What?" Hermione looked slightly confused. "Oh — I had to go back for something. Oh no —"

A seam had split on Hermione's bag. Harry wasn't surprised; he could see that it was crammed with at least a dozen large and heavy books.

"Why are you carrying all these around with you?" Ron asked her.

"You know how many subjects I'm taking," said Hermione breathlessly. "Couldn't hold these for me, could you?"

"But —" Ron was turning over the books she had handed him, looking at the covers. "You haven't got any of these subjects today. It's only Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"Oh yes," said Hermione vaguely, but she packed all the books back into her bag just the same.

Yes, I definitely need to talk to her.

"I hope there's something good for lunch, I'm starving," she added, and she marched off toward the Great Hall.

"D'you get the feeling Hermione's not telling us something?" Ron asked Harry and I.

Nope. Not at all.

**End of Chapter 11**

**A/N: And another chapter again.**

**Please, _please _review.**

**That's all I can ask.**


	12. Chapter 12:A BOGGART what's a Boggart?

_**Disclaimer: I only own Navi**_

**Chapter 12: IT'S A BOGGART! … what's a boggart?**

Professor Lupin wasn't there when we arrived at our first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. So we all, just walked in to the classroom and took our seats, taking out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals.

I only just caught the glance he sent my way, and it confused me.

Did I look like someone he knew?

Did he know my parents? And did i look like them?

"Good afternoon," he said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

Judging by the curious looks that were exchanged as the class put away their books, this was not a normal occurrence.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin, when everyone was ready. "If you'd follow me."

We all got to our feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led us along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.

Now personally, I kind of liked Peeves. Once you get past the whole 'poltergeist who doesn't listen to anyone, and plays pranks on everyone, 'no exceptions' thing.

Peeves didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away; then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.

"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peeves sang. "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin —"

I think it's funny he has the nerve to call anyone 'loopy'. We all looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this; to my surprise, he was still smiling.

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves," he said pleasantly. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms."

Filch was the Hogwarts caretaker, a bad-tempered, failed wizard who waged a constant war against the students and, indeed, Peeves. He did not like me at all. Another thing to add to the list of things I hate about Hogwarts.

5~ Filch and his stupid cat.

However, Peeves paid no attention to Professor Lupin's words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry.

Professor Lupin just gave a small sigh and took out his wand.

"This is a useful little spell," he told our class over his shoulder. "Please watch closely."

He raised the wand to shoulder height, said, "_Waddiwasi_!" and pointed it at Peeves.

With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves's left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.

I stared at my Professor who I now saw in a blue light.

"Cool, sir!" said Dean Thomas in amazement.

"Thank you, Dean," said Professor Lupin, putting his wand away again. "Shall we proceed?"

We set off again. He led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom door.

"Inside, please," said Professor Lupin, opening it and standing back.

The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth. As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape said, "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this." He got to his feet and strode past us, his black robes billowing behind him, reminding me of a bat. At the doorway he turned on his heel and said, "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."

Neville went scarlet. I gaped and glared at Snape; it was bad enough that he bullied Neville in his own classes, let alone doing it in front of other teachers.

Professor Lupin had raised his eyebrows.

"I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he said, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

Neville's face went, if possible, even redder. Snape's lip curled, but he left, shutting the door with a snap.

"Now, then," said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where I'm guessing the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly because a few people (including me) had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a Boggart in there."

Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Oh, a boggart! … what in the world was a boggart? Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Seamus Finnigan eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks — I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice.

"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?"

Good question.

Hermione put up her hand. Ah, of course.

"It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione glowed. "So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears."

Neville spluttered in terror.

"This means," said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore small sputter, "that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

I imagine that having Hermione next to him, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet with her hand in the air, was very off-putting, but Harry had a go anyway.

"Er — because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione put her hand down, looking a little disappointed.

"It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake — tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening."

Who the hell is frightened of a slug? Even a flesh-eating one?

"The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing.

"We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please… riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" said the class together.

"Good," said Professor Lupin. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville."

The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville, who walked forward as though he were heading for his doom.

"Right, Neville," said Professor Lupin. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

Neville's lips moved, but nothing came out.

"I didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," said Professor Lupin cheerfully.

Where does he keep his happy pills? And where can I get some?

Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Professor Snape."

I actually let out a small laugh at this. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful.

"Professor Snape… hmmm… Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Er — yes," said Neville nervously. "But — I don't want the Boggart to turn into her either."

"No, no, you misunderstand me," said Professor Lupin, now smiling. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

Neville looked startled, but said, "Well… always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress… green, normally… and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."

"And a handbag?" prompted Professor Lupin.

"A big red one," said Neville.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

What was this guy's plan?

Whatever it was, it sounded devious.

"Yes," said Neville uncertainty, plainly wondering what was coming next.

"When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," said Lupin. "And you will raise your wand — thus — and cry 'Riddikulus' — and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, and that green dress, with that big red handbag."

I was just about rolling on the floor with laughter at just the image. The wardrobe wobbled more violently.

"If Neville is successful, the Boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…"

The room went quiet.

I wondered what I feared the most.

Five years ago my answer would have been the dark. Two years ago it would have been small spaces. But now I find them cozy and calming.

I guess my answer would have to be nothing.

Now, I know what you're thinking. No one is afraid of nothing.

Then you would be absolutely right. No one has nothing the don't fear.

What I'm saying is, I fear _nothing_, to be surrounded in a mist where nothing was visible.

Where no sounds could be heard. Where I couldn't feel.

I _literally _feared nothing.

"Everyone ready?" said Professor Lupin.

How do I make nothing, something funny?

Then I smiled lightly, when there's nothing, I can make anything.

But what did I find funny?

"Neville, we're going to back away," said Professor Lupin. "Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward… Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot —"

They all retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.

"On the count of three, Neville," said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One — two — three —now!"

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin's wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and menacing, Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville.

Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes.

"R — r — riddikulus! " squeaked Neville.

There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag.

Oh. my. God. Lupin, you are a genius!

I, along with everyone else, roared with laughter; the Boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, "Parvati! Forward!"

Parvati walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising —

"Riddikulus!" cried Parvati.

A bandage unraveled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.

"Seamus!" roared Professor Lupin.

Seamus darted past Parvati.

Crack! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floorlength black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face — a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek that made the hair on Harry's head stand on end — "Riddikulus!" shouted Seamus.

The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone.

Crack! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then —crack!- became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before —crack! — becoming a single, bloody eyeball.

"It's confused!" shouted Lupin. "We're getting there! Dean!"

Dean hurried forward.

Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab.

"Riddikulus!" yelled Dean.

There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.

"Excellent! Ron, you next!"

Ron leapt forward.

Crack!

Quite a few people screamed. I wasn't one of them. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly. Ron seemed to be frozen. Then —

"Riddikulus!" bellowed Ron, and the spider's legs vanished; it rolled over and over; Lavender Brown squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at Harry's feet. He raised his wand, ready, but —

"Here!" shouted Professor Lupin suddenly, hurrying forward. Crack!

The legless spider had vanished. For a second, everyone looked wildly around to see where it was. Then they saw a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said, "Riddikulus!" almost lazily.

Crack!

"Forward, Neville, and finish him off!" said Lupin as the Boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach. Crack! Snape was back. This time Neville charged forward looking determined.

"Riddikulus!" he shouted, and they had a split second's view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great "Ha!" of laughter, and the Boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

"Excellent!" cried Professor Lupin as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone… Let me see… five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart — ten for Neville because he did it twice… and five each to Hermione and Harry."

"But I didn't do anything," said Harry.

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry," Lupin said lightly. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on Boggarts and summarise it for me… o be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

Talking excitedly, the class left the staffroom. I was frowning. Why didn't Professor Lupin let Harry face the Boggart

But no one else seemed to have noticed anything.

"Did you see me take that banshee?" shouted Seamus.

"And the hand!" said Dean, waving his own around.

"And Snape in that hat!"

"And my mummy!"

"I wonder why Professor Lupin's frightened of crystal balls?" said Lavender thoughtfully.

"That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" said Ron excitedly as they made their way back to the classroom to get their bags.

"He seems like a very good teacher," said Hermione approvingly.

"But I wish I could have had a turn with the Boggart —"

"What would it have been for you?" said Ron, sniggering. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?"

I snickered at that, earning myself a glare from Hermione, and I straightened up, acting like nothing had happened.

"What?" I asked her, causing the all-knowing one to groan in frustration at me.

Yeah.

I do that to people.

**End Of Chapter 12**

**A/N: Please, review!**

**Or I will go back to the arrows to give you directions.**


	13. Chapter 13: Unhelpful Helpers

**Chapter 13: Unhelpful Helpers**

Defence Against the Dark Arts, had now become my absolute favourite class, along with most of the student population. Only Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Professor Lupin.

"Look at the state of his robes," Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. "He dresses like our old house elf."

No one seemed to care how he dressed though.

He was an awesome teacher. Even if he still acted iffy around me.

I came to the conclusion that I looked like someone he used to know.

Even so, his lesson were just as awesome as the first had been.

After Boggarts, they studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin-like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed: in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had gotten lost. From Red Caps they moved on to Kappas, creepy. water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.

If only my other classes were that cool.

Charms was okay, once I got over Professor Flitwick's voice.

Herbology was quite nice, Professor Sprout was really nice to me, and even seemed quite pitying, but I had no idea why.

History was … _boring._I mean, the teacher was a ghost. I don't even think _he_ realised this.

Transfiguration was okay. Professor McGonagall treated me like everyone else which was comforting.

The only reason I didn't like Astronomy was because it was on really late, and I just wanted to sleep the whole time.

Worst of all was Potions. Snape was in a particularly vindictive mood these days, and no one was in any doubt why. The story of the Boggart assuming Snape's shape, and the way that Neville had dressed it in his grandmother's clothes, had traveled through the school like wildfire. Snape didn't seem to find it funny. His eyes flashed menacingly at the very mention of Professor Lupin's name, and he was bullying Neville worse than ever.

I also didn't like Divination. Professor Trelawney predictions, were getting more dramatic by the lesson, and it was getting on my nerves.

Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become extremely dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. We were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.

"Why would anyone bother looking after them?" said Ron, after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the flobberworms' throats.

I was inclined to agree with him.

They were kind of useless.

At the start of October, however, there was something that seemed to be on Harry's and a fair few other's minds.

The Quidditch season was approaching, and Harry, Ron, along with the Twins would help explain the rules to me.

There were seven people on a Quidditch team: three Chasers, whose job it was to score goals by putting the Quaffle (a red, soccer-sized ball) through one of the fifty-foot-high hoops at each end of the field; two Beaters, who were equipped with heavy bats to repel the Bludgers (two heavy black balls that zoomed around trying to attack the players); a Keeper, who defended the goal posts, and the Seeker, who had the hardest job of all, that of catching the Golden Snitch, a tiny, winged, walnut-sized ball, whose capture ended the game and earned the Seeker's team an extra one hundred and fifty points.

Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor team captain, was a burly seventeen-year-old, now in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. And it seemed to be his life's goal to win the Quidditch cup.

Which meant that Harry was often at training sessions, meaning that I spent my free time with either Ron or Hermione.

Mainly Hermione.

One evening, when Harry was out at practice, a sign was put up on the noticeboard, causing the common room to become buzzing with life an energy.

And causing me to become moody and mumble responses to everything.

"What's happened?", Harry asked Ron and Hermione when he came back from Quidditch, and looked at my grumpy form, as we sat in the best chairs by the fireside and completing some star charts for Astronomy.

"First Hogsmeade weekend," said Ron, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old bulletin board. "End of October. Halloween."

"Excellent," said Fred, who had followed Harry through the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."

Harry threw himself into a chair beside Ron, and we exchanged a look.

Hermione seemed to catch on.

"Harry, I'm sure you and Navi'll be able to go next time," she said. "They're bound to catch Black soon. He's been sighted once already."

"Black's not fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade," said Ron. "Ask McGonagall if you can go this time, Harry. The next one might not be for ages —"

"Ron!" said Hermione. "Harry's supposed to stay in school —"

"They can't be the only third years left behind," said Ron. "Ask McGonagall, go on, Harry —"

"Yeah, I think I will," said Harry, making up his mind.

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but at that moment Crookshanks leapt lightly onto her lap. A large, dead spider was dangling from his mouth.

Ew. Hermione, I know you love that thing, but … ew.

"Does he have to eat that in front of us?" said Ron, scowling.

"Clever Crookshanks, did you catch that all by yourself?" said Hermione.

Crookshanks; slowly chewed up the spider, his yellow eyes fixed insolently on Ron.

"Just keep him over there, that's all," said Ron irritably, turning back to his star chart. "I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag."

Harry yawned. He really wanted to go to bed, but he still had his own star chart to complete. He pulled his bag toward him, took out parchment, ink, and quill, and started work.

"You can copy mine, if you like," said Ron, labelling his last star with a flourish and shoving the chart toward Harry.

Hermione, who obviously disapproved of copying, pursed her lips but didn't say anything. Crookshanks was still staring unblinkingly at Ron, flicking the end of his bushy tail. Then, without warning, he pounced.

"OY!" Ron roared, seizing his bag as Crookshanks sank four sets of claws deep inside it and began tearing ferociously. "GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!"

Ron tried to pull the bag away from Crookshanks, but Crookshanks clung on, spitting and slashing.

"Ron, don't hurt him!" squealed Hermione; the whole common room was watching; Ron whirled the bag around, Crookshanks still clinging to it, and Scabbers came flying out of the top —

"CATCH THAT CAT!" Ron yelled as Crookshanks freed himself from the remnants of the bag, sprang over the table, and chased after the terrified Scabbers.

George Weasley made a lunge for Crookshanks but missed; Scabbers streaked through twenty pairs of legs and shot beneath an old chest of drawers. Crookshanks skidded to a halt, crouched low on his bandy legs, and started making furious swipes beneath it with his front paw.

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or help.

Ron and Hermione hurried over to the cat; Hermione grabbed Crookshanks around the middle and heaved him away; Ron threw himself onto his stomach and, with great difficulty, pulled Scabbers out by the tail.

"Look at him!" he said furiously to Hermione, dangling Scabbers in front of her. "He's skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!"

"Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!" said Hermione, her voice shaking. "All cats chase rats, Ron!"

"There's something funny about that animal!" said Ron, who was trying to persuade a frantically wiggling Scabbers back into his pocket. "It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!"

"Oh, what rubbish," said Hermione impatiently. "Crookshanks could smell him, Ron, how else d'you think —"

"That cat's got it in for Scabbers!" said Ron, ignoring the people around him, who were starting to giggle. "And Scabbers was here first, and he's ill!"

Ron marched through the common room and out of sight up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

Hermione soon went up to the girls' and I followed her.

"Hey Hermione?" I asked.

"What?" she asked, sounding impatient.

"Something's up," I said to her. "Can you tell me what's going on?"

She blew me off with a vague reply.

I rolled my eyes. "Hermione. You're stressing out over your schoolwork. Ron's not helping of course, but come on, you're overloaded. And not to mention this huge secret over how you're managing to get to all your classes. I wish you would just -"

"I'm using a timeturner!" she burst out suddenly, and I jumped, not expecting it.

She clamped a hand over her mouth in shock.

"You – time –" I couldn't form a sentence.

"Professor McGonagall gave it to me when we arrived. So I could get to all my classes."

"So, let me get this straight," I said to her. "You're going _back in time _so you can attend classes?"

She whimpered and nodded.

"Wow," I said, impressed. "Tell you what, I'll help you keep your secret if you help me out with our Herbology assignment."

She gave me a weak smile before giving me a hug.

"I'm sorry," she said to me. "No one is supposed to know."

I smiled at her. "It's okay."

Ron was still in a bad mood with Hermione next day. He barely talked to her all through Herbology, even though he, Harry, Hermione, and I were working together on the same Puffapod.

"How's Scabbers?" Hermione asked timidly as they stripped fat pink pods from the plants and emptied the shining beans into a wooden pail.

"He's hiding at the bottom of my bed, shaking," said Ron angrily, missing the pail and scattering beans over the greenhouse floor.

"Careful, Weasley, careful!" cried Professor Sprout as the beans burst into bloom before their very eyes.

I scowled at Ron.

Last night seemed to have strengthened the relationship between Hermione and me.

And it was nice to be friends with a girl for once.

During Transfiguration, Harry and I had resolved to ask Professor McGonagall if we could have permission to go to Hogsmeade, but we were … cistracted.

Lavender Brown seemed to be crying. Parvati had her arm around her and was explaining something to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were looking very serious.

"What's the matter, Lavender?" said Hermione anxiously as our quartet went to join the group.

"She got a letter from home this morning," Parvati whispered. "It's her rabbit, Binky. He's been killed by a fox."

"Oh," said Hermione, "I'm sorry, Lavender."

"I should have known!" said Lavender tragically. "You know what day it is?"

"Er —"

"The sixteenth of October! 'That thing you're dreading, it will happen on the sixteenth of October!' Remember? She was right, she was right!"

The whole class was gathered around Lavender now. Seamus shook his head seriously. Hermione hesitated; then she said, "You — you were dreading Binky being killed by a fox?"

"Well, not necessarily by a fox," said Lavender, looking up at Hermione with streaming eyes, "but I was obviously dreading him dying, wasn't I?"

"Oh," said Hermione. She paused again. Then —

"Was Binky an old rabbit?"

"N — no!" sobbed Lavender. "H — he was only a baby!"

Parvati tightened her arm around Lavender's shoulders.

"But then, why would you dread him dying?" said Hermione.

Parvati glared at her.

I facepalmed. And people say Ron has no tact

"Well, look at it logically," said Hermione, turning to the rest of the group. "I mean, Binky didn't even die today, did he? Lavender just got the news today —" Lavender wailed loudly. "– and she can't have been dreading it, because it's come as a real shock —"

"Don't mind Hermione, Lavender," said Ron loudly, "she doesn't think other people's pets matter very much."

Ouch, Ron. That was a bit harsh.

Professor McGonagall opened the classroom door at that moment, which was perhaps lucky; Hermione and Ron were looking daggers at each other, and when they got into class, they seated themselves on either side of Harry and me and didn't talk to each other for the whole class.

I wondered what Harry's plan was for tyring to get us permission into Hogsmeade.

I hope he wouldn't ask me for help.

Any plans I made usually ended in disaster.

Unless it was getting _out_ of something.

… like detention.

"One moment, please!" Professor McGonagall called as the class made to leave. "As you're all in my House, you should hand Hogsmeade permission forms to me before Halloween. No form, no visiting the village, so don't forget!"

Neville put up his hand.

"Please, Professor, I — I think I've lost —"

"Your grandmother sent yours to me directly, Longbottom," said Professor McGonagall. "She seemed to think it was safer. Well, that's all, you may leave."

"Ask her now," Ron hissed at Harry.

"Oh. but —" Hermione began.

"Go for it, Harry," said Ron stubbornly. "You too, Navi."

Harry and I waited for the rest of the class to disappear, then headed nervously for Professor McGonagall's desk.

"Yes, Potter, Miss Navi?" Harry took a deep breath.

"Professor, my aunt and uncle — er — forgot to sign my form," he said.

Professor McGonagall looked over her square spectacles at him but didn't say anything.

"So — er — d'you think it would be all right mean, will It be okay if I — if we go to Hogsmeade?"

Professor McGonagall looked down and began shuffling papers on her desk.

"I'm afraid not, Potter," she said. "You heard what I said. No form, no visiting the village. That's the rule."

"But — Professor, my aunt and uncle — you know, they're Muggles, they don't really understand about — about Hogwarts forms and stuff," Harry said, while Ron egged him on with vigorous nods. "And Navi's never exactly had a guardian at all. If you said we could go —"

"But I don't say so," said Professor McGonagall, standing up and piling her papers neatly into a drawer. "The form clearly states that the parent or guardian must give permission." She turned to look at us, with an odd expression on her face. Was it pity? "I'm sorry, Miss Navi, Potter, but that's my final word. You had better hurry, or you'll be late for your next lesson."

There was nothing to be done. Ron called Professor McGonagall a lot of names that greatly annoyed Hermione; Hermione assumed an 'all-for-the-best' expression that made Ron even angrier, and Harry had to endure everyone in the class talking loudly and happily about what they were going to do first, once they got into Hogsmeade.

"It's so unfair!" I complained to Hermione. Yes, I'm aware that it was a bit of a lost cause. "I don't even _have _a guardian! Can't I get special privilege? Or at least a pity vote?"

Hermione patted me on the arm. "At least you'll have the Halloween feast."

I'd heard that the Halloween feast was good, but it would be a lot better if I could go to Hogsmeade. Nothing anyone said made me feel any better about being left behind.

Dean Thomas, who was good with a quill, had offered to forge Uncle Vernon's signature on the form, but as Harry had already told Professor McGonagall he hadn't had it signed, that was no good, not to mention that kind of didn't work for me. Ron halfheartedly suggested the Invisibility Cloak, but Hermione stamped on that one, reminding Ron what Dumbledore had told them about the Dementors being able to see through them.

Percy even attempted to cheer us up, failing miserably.

"They make a fuss about Hogsmeade, but I assure you, it's not all it's cracked up to be," he said seriously. "All right, the sweetshop's rather good, and Zonko's Joke Shop's frankly dangerous, and yes, the Shrieking Shack's always worth a visit, but really, Harry, Navi, apart from that, you're not missing anything."

Thanks Percy, appreciate it.

**End Of Chapter 13**

**R&R**

**Please?**


	14. Chapter 14: Halloween

**Chapter 14: Halloween**

On Halloween morning, Harry and I were depressed together. Even though we tried our hardest not to act it.

"We'll bring you lots of sweets back from Honeydukes," said Hermione, looking desperately sorry for us.

"Yeah, loads," said Ron. He and Hermione had finally forgotten their squabble about Crookshanks in the face of mine and Harry's difficulties.

"Don't worry about me," said Harry, in a failed, would-be offhand voice, "I'll see you at the feast. Have a good time."

I wandered off on my lonesome to the library, to get a bit of work done.

Maybe something good could come from today.

If I couldn't go out and have _fun, _then I'd get work done. This of course, did not happen.

Personally, I believe that would be a waste of a day.

Instead I took to going through all of the books I could find on the war.

Mainly deaths. I was looking for someone who could have been my mother.

But no one had died with the name 'Heather'.

It was frustrating. Back to square one.

There was a list of women who disappeared around the time of my abandonment.

Lorraine T. Adler

Annalyse F. Callea

Felicity. J. Carllson

Joanna K. Chidgey

Sophia L. Hopper

Georgina R. Hudson

Shirley. H. Kensington

Verity B. Lord

Serena M. Mackenzie

Desirae H. Stanton

Penelope N. Torrein

And there were more names to that list, and that's just the month I was ditched.

But no Heather.

Unfortunately there was just names so I couldn't exactly look for similarities in looks.

Afterwards, I headed back to the common room, where Harry and I talk for a bit. He'd had tea with Professor Lupin when Snape came in and gave him a potion of some sort for his 'health'.

"And he _drank_ it?" I asked, worried for our favourite teacher.

Harry nodded, and then began to explain how they talked about the Dementors for a quick second.

When Hermione and Ron finally returned, the dropped a shower of brilliantly colored sweets into mine and Harry's laps. It was dusk, and they had just turned up in the common room, pink-faced from the cold wind and looking as though they'd had the time of their lives.

"Thanks," said Harry, picking up a packet of tiny black Pepper Imps. "What's Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?"

By the sound of it — everywhere. Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment shop, Zonko's Joke Shop, into the Three Broomsticks for foaming mugs of hot butterbeer, and many places besides.

"The post office, Harry! About two hundred owls, all sitting on shelves, all color-coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there! You'd love it Navi!"

"Honeydukes has got a new kind of fudge; they were giving out free samples, there's a bit, look —"

"We think we saw an ogre, honestly, they get all sorts at the Three Broomsticks —"

"Wish we could have brought you some butterbeer, really warms you up —"

"What did you do?" said Hermione, looking anxious. "Did you get any work done?"

"No," said Harry. "Lupin made me a cup of tea in his office. And then Snape came in…"

He told them all about the goblet. Ron's mouth fell open.

"Lupin drank it?" he gasped. "Is he mad?"

"What about you?" Hermione asked me.

I shrugged. " I was in the library –" Ron snorted, "–looking up who could have been my mother."

They all looked interested now. "Did you find anything?" Harry asked me.

I shook my head. "No. There's about twenty names on that list of woman who died. I haven't got a clue on who it could be."

Hermione checked her watch.

"We'd better go down, you know, the feast'll be starting in five minutes." They hurried through the portrait hole and into the crowd, turning our discussion back to Snape.

"But if he — you know —" Hermione dropped her voice, glancing nervously around, "if he was trying to — to poison Lupin — he wouldn't have done it in front of Harry."

"Yeah, maybe," said Harry as they reached the entrance hall and crossed into the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.

It looked really cool.

The food was delicious; even Hermione and Ron, who were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets, managed second helpings of everything.

I also got into a heated debate with Percy about something or another. I couldn't really remember what happened. Only that I ended being quite smug about something,

The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.

Te only thing that even threatened to ruin the good mood was Malfoy, who shouted through the crowd as they all left the hall, "The Dementors send their love, Potter!", aand we just ignored him anyway.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and I followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when they reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, we found it jammed with students.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" said Ron curiously.

I tried to peer over the heads in front of me. The portrait seemed to be closed.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the hold up here? You can't all have forgotten the password — excuse me, I'm Head Boy —"

And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. I heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

I attempted to jump and see what was happening, but me, being the shorty that I was … well, I just looked like a fool.

"What's going on?" said Ginny, who had just arrived.

A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and we moved closer to see what the trouble was.

"Oh, my —" I heard Hermione say as my eyes widened.

The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely. Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes sombre, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying toward him.

"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.

It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle. "Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing." he added unconvincingly.

"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Oh yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

My eyes must have been the size of saucers, and I quickly glanced over at Harry.

Sirius Black was here, in the castle.

**End of Chapter 14**

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	15. Chapter 15: Aftermath of Halloween

**Chapter 15: Aftermath of Halloween.**

"How did he even get past the Dementors?" I asked Harry in whisper.

"I don't know," my best friend replied, looking extremely pale.

Professor Dumbledore sent all the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall, where we soon joined by the others houses, who were very confused as to what was going om

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Percy, who was looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."

Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing…"

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.

We Gryffindors quickly filled everyone in on what had happened and soon the Great Hall was buzzing with talk of how Sirius got inside the castle.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

"C'mon," Ron said to Harry, Hermione and me; we grabbed four sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner.

"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione whispered anxiously.

"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," said Ron.

"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," said Hermione as we climbed fully dressed into their sleeping bags and propped themselves on their elbows to talk. "The one night we weren't in the tower…"

"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," said Ron. "Didn't realise it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."

Hermione shuddered.

"I don't think so," I told them. "There's no way Black would risk facing the teachers."

All around us, people were asking one another the same question: "How did he get in?"

"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," said a Ravenclaw a few feet away, "Just appear out of thin air, you know."

"Disguised himself, probably," said a Hufflepuff fifth year.

"He could've flown in," suggested Dean Thomas.

"Honestly, am I the only person who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?" said Hermione crossly to us.

"Probably," said Ron. "Why?"

"Because the castle's protected by more than walls, you know," said Hermione. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those Dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered…"

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars. It was odd. With all of the whispering going on, it seemed like we were outside in a light wind.

Percy kept prowling around, telling people off for talking.

Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the Hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Professor Dumbledore came in. Percy was only a short way away from where we were, and we quickly pretended to be asleep as Dumbledore's footsteps drew nearer.

"Any sign of him, Professor?" asked Percy in a whisper.

"No. All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir."

"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."

"And the Fat Lady, sir?"

"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her."

Poor thing. But, at least she held true to Gryffindor.

The door of the hall creaked open again, and more footsteps could be heard.

"Headmaster?" It was Snape. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."

"What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"

"All searched…"

"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" asked Snape.

I listened harded than ever, thankful that my forehead was resting on my arms, allowing me to listen with both ears.

"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before — ah — the start of term?" said Snape, who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to block Percy out of the conversation.

"I do, Severus," said Dumbledore, and there was something like warning in his voice.

"It seems — almost impossible — that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed —"

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," said Dumbledore, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn't reply. "I must go down to the Dementors," said Dumbledore. "I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" said Percy.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore coldly. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster."

And I'm definitely thankful for that.

Soon enough, footsteps were heard leaving the Great Hall and I moved my head to look at the others.

"What was all that about?" Ron mouthed to us.

"I don't know," I mouthed back.

Safe to say, I didn't get much sleep that night.

I kept wondering what would have happened if the Fat Lady had given entrance to Black.

Would he have waited until we returned and then killed Harry?

The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class telling anyone who'd listen that Black could turn into a flowering shrub.

Even me, who was still fairly new to the world of magic, knew this was stupid.

The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat gray pony.

Nobody was very happy about this. Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day.

"He's a complete lunatic," said Seamus Finnigan angrily to Percy. "Can't we get anyone else?"

"None of the other pictures wanted the job," said Percy. "Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer."

I rolled my eyes at that.

Stupid portraits.

But the Knight and his fat pony were far from my mind at the moment.

Harry was being escorted everywhere he went. Percy Weasley was acting a guard dog, which Harry told me he suspected to be on Mrs Weasley's orders.

Even I was followed.

Not by Percy mind you, thank God, but Teachers seemed to be keeping a close watch on me.

And Harry's first Quidditch match was on Saturday, so I took to watching the team practice to get away from it all, only to end up sitting with Madam Hooch, the flying instructor at Hogwarts, who was assigned to guard Harry during his training sessions.

And I was there when Oliver Wood delivered some very important, yet annoying news.

"We're not playing Slytherin!" he told everyone, looking very angry. "Flint's just been to see me. We're playing Hufflepuff instead."

"Why?" chorused the rest of the team and me.

There had been strong winds and heavy rain all day, and as Wood spoke, they heard a distant rumble of thunder.

"There's nothing wrong with Malfoy's arm!" said Harry furiously. "He's faking it!"

"I know that, but we can't prove it," said Wood bitterly, "And we've been practicing all those moves assuming we're playing Slytherin, and instead it's Hufflepuff, and their style's quite different. They've got a new Captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory —"

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie suddenly giggled.

"What?" said Wood, frowning at this lighthearted behaviour.

"He's that tall, good-looking one, isn't he?" said Angelina.

"Strong and silent," said Katie, and they started to giggle again.

I surpressed a grin. I too, had seen the Hufflepuff team captain, and thought he was rather dashing.

"He's only silent because he's too thick to string two words together," said Fred impatiently. "I don't know why you're worried, Oliver, Hufflepuff is a pushover. Last time we played them, Harry caught the Snitch in about five minutes, remember?"

"We were playing in completely different conditions!" Wood shouted, his eyes bulging slightly. "Diggory's put a very strong side together! He's an excellent Seeker! I was afraid you'd take it like this! We mustn't relax! We must keep our focus! Slytherin is trying to wrong-foot us! We must win!"

"Oliver, calm down!" said Fred, looking slightly alarmed. "We're taking Hufflepuff very seriously. Seriously."

My eyes were wide as I looked at Wood.

He was downright scary when it came to Quidditch.

The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit. The Slytherin team was looking very smug indeed, and none more so than Malfoy.

"Ah, if only my arm was feeling a bit better!" he sighed as the gale outside pounded the windows.

And just to top this all off with a cherry, Professor Lupin was sick.

Which meant that Professor Snape was filling in.

And Harry had been cornered by Wood before the lesson, causing him to be late.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin. I —"

"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."

Once again, my hair turned a dark mahogany colour.

But Harry didn't move.

"Where's Professor Lupin?" he said.

"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Snape with a twisted smile. "I believe I told you to sit down?"

But Harry stayed where he was.

"What's wrong with him?"

Snape's black eyes glittered.

"Nothing life-threatening," he said, looking as though he wished it were. "Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty."

Harry walked slowly to his seat and sat down. Snape looked around at the class.

"As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far —"

"Please, sir, we've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas, and Grindylows," said Hermione quickly, "and we're just about to start —"

"Be quiet," said Snape coldly. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."

"He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said Dean Thomas boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Snape looked more menacing than ever.

"You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you — I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss —"

Snape then began to flick through the textbook, to the very back chapter, which he must know they hadn't covered.

"— werewolves," said Snape.

"But, sir," said Hermione, seemingly unable to restrain herself, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start Hinkypunks —"

"Miss Granger," said Snape in a voice of deadly calm, "I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you.

And I am telling you all to turn to page 394." He glanced around again. "All of you! Now!"

With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Snape.

Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air.

"Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between —"

"We told you," said Parvati suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on-"

"Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are…"

"Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf —"

"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Hermione went very red, put down her hand, and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears.

I think my hair turned even redder as I glared at Snape.

It was a mark of how much the class loathed Snape that we were all glaring at him, because every one of us had called Hermione a know-it-all at least once, even me, and Ron, who told Hermione she was a know-it-all at least twice a week, said loudly, "You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"

I knew then, that he'd gone too far. Snape advanced on Ron slowly, and the room held its breath.

"Detention, Weasley," Snape said silkily, his face very close to Ron's. "And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. We all sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work we had been doing with Professor Lupin.

"Very poorly explained… That is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia… Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it three…"

That wasn't true.

A kappa was japanese. But there was no way I'd question Snape. Not when he was like this.

When the bell rang at last, Snape held them back.

"You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Weasley, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."

Harry, Hermione and I left the room with the rest of the class, who waited until they were well out of earshot, then burst into a furious tirade about Snape.

"Snape's never been like this with any of our other Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, even if he did want the job," Harry said to me and Hermione. "Why's he got it in for Lupin? D'you think this is all because of the Boggart?"

"I don't know," said Hermione pensively. "But I really hope Professor Lupin gets better soon…"

"You're not the only one," I muttered to her.

Ron caught up with us five minutes later, in a towering rage.

"D'you know what that —" (he called Snape something that made Hermione say "Ron!")

"— is making me do? I've got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!" He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. "Why couldn't Black have hidden in Snape's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!"

"Hear, hear!" I agreed.

That night, Hermione had begun the essay that Snape had set us.

I had decided not to do it.

A silent – that would most likely end in in raised voices – protest.

After a while, Hermione began muttering to herself, before going over the lunar cycle.

"Uh … Hermione?" I asked. "You okay?"

"The full moon," I heard her whisper.

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

She looked up at me with side eyes. "It wasn't a crystal ball that was Professor Lupin's Boggart."

I blinked in confusion.

"It was a full moon?"

She nodded, trying for me to understand what the hell was going on.

I thought hard for a second before giving up.

"I don't get it."

"It all makes sense!" she shouted at me, causing me to jump. "Last night was the full moon. Professor Lupin's Boggart is a full moon. And Snape hating him, and forcing us to write this essay on werewolves –"

"You think Professor Lupin is a werewolf?" I asked her.

"It all fits!" she stressed, and I thought about it.

"Yeah …" I agreed. "I guess it kind of does."

We left the conversation at that as I slept on it.

The next morning I was woken by Hermione, and we headed down to the Great Hall together, worried about the match due to all this rain.

Harry was worrying, as usual.

I pretty much force fed him a bit of porridge, which seemed to make him feel better.

And he started the toast all on his own when the rest of the team arrived for breakfast.

"It's going to be a tough one," said Wood, who wasn't eating anything.

"Stop worrying, Oliver," said Alicia soothingly, "we don't mind a bit of rain."

But it was considerably more than a bit of rain.

Our scarves whipped in the wind, and umbrellas were fighting to become airborne.

We took our seats and the teams came onto the field in their Quidditch gear.

The Hufflepuffs were in canary yellow, the Gryffindors in scarlet.

Because of the rain and wind, everything was so hard so see, and I wondered how Harry could see anything at all with his glasses.

Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and gave it a blast that sounded shrill and distant — they were off.

Harry rose fast, but he seemed to be swerving with the wind.

This was definitely a hard match.

The commentary was distant and fuzzy, the game was hard to track.

"Hermione!" I yelled over the wind. "Harry won't be able to see a thing! Is there a spell that can repel water?"

When the first flash of lightening came, Hermione and I went to see Harry after Wood had called a time-out.

When we reached them she was holding her cloak over the both of our heads and was, inexplicably, beaming.

"Navi had an idea, Harry! Give me your glasses, quick!"

He handed them to her, and as the team watched in amazement, Hermione tapped them with her wand and said, "Impervius!"

"There!" she said, handing them back to Harry. "They'll repel water!"

Wood looked as though he could have kissed her.

She's a bit young for you hun.

We headed off, back into the crowd, the watch the rest of the game.

Soon, everything seemed to go quiet, and a chill filled the air, unlike the one the weather was causing.

No. Dumbledore said they weren't allowed in the grounds.

I was only able to watch in horror as Harry fell from his broom, due to the creatures.

"HARRY!" I screamed as he fell.

**End of Chapter 15**

_**A/N: Review for virtual cookies!**_


	16. Chapter 16: The Marauders' Map

**Chapter 16: The Marauder's Map**

We (Hermione, Ron, myself, and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, minus Wood ... so technically it wasn't the _entire _team ... whatever) all stood crowded around Harry's bed in the hospital wing.

"Lucky the ground was so soft."

"I thought he was dead for sure."

"But he didn't even break his glasses."

"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life."

"He's lucky he only got knocked out," I added to the chatter

"Harry!" said Fred, who looked extremely white underneath the mud on his face, and my head snapped over to my best mate. "How're you feeling?"

"What happened?" he asked, sitting up so suddenly that we all gasped.

"You fell off," said Fred. "Must've been — what — fifty feet?"

"We thought you'd died," said Alicia, who was shaking.

Hermione made a small, squeaky noise. Her eyes were extremely bloodshot. So were mine, for that matter.

"But the match," said Harry. "What happened? Are we doing a replay?"

No one said anything.

None of us wanted to be the people to tell Harry that it was the first match that he'd lost.

"We didn't — lose?"

"Diggory got the Snitch," said George. "Just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square… even Wood admits it."

"Where is Wood?" said Harry, realising the captain was the only person from the team who was missing.

"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself."

Harry put his face to his knees, his hands gripping his hair. Fred grabbed his shoulder and shook it roughly.

"C'mon, Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before."

"There had to be one time you didn't get it," said George.

"It's not over yet," said Fred. "We lost by a hundred points."

"Right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin…"

"Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George.

"But if they beat Ravenclaw…"

"No way, Ravenclaw is too good. But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff…"

"It all depends on the points — a margin of a hundred either way —"

Harry lay there, not saying a word.

I patted his shoulder and looked at Ron and Hermione for help.

After ten minutes or so, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave him in peace.

"We'll come and see you later," Fred told him. "Don't beat yourself up Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had."

The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving. Ron and Hermione moved nearer to Harry's bed, while I sat next to him.

"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said in a quaking voice. "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the Dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away… He was furious they'd come onto the grounds. We heard him —"

"Then he magicked you onto a stretcher," said Ron. "And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were…"

His voice faded, and I winced at the memory of my best mate laying there, not moving.

"Did someone get my Nimbus?"

Ron and Hermione looked quickly at each other and I turned my head away.

"Er —"

"What?" asked Harry, looking from each of us in turn.

"Well… when you fell off, it got blown away," said Hermione hesitantly.

"And?"

"And it hit — it hit — oh, Harry — it hit the Whomping Willow."

The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree that stood alone in the middle of the grounds. The broom never stood a chance. Even if it could fight back.

"And?" he said, dreading the answer.

"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," said Ron. "It — it doesn't like being hit."

"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around," said Hermione in a very small voice.

Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harry's faithful, finally beaten broomstick.

Over the weekend, Harry had a lot of well-wishers and visiters.

And received a few get well gifts while he was at it.

Ginny's singing card was quite funny.

Ron, Hermione and myself only left Harry's bedside at night. But nothing anyone said or did seemed to make Harry feel any better.

One night, when we went to leave, Harry asked me to stay back for a bit.

"You guys go ahead," I said to Ron and Hermione. "I'll catch up."

Ron seemed a bit miffed that Harry wanted to talk to me and not him, but otherwised seemed okay with it.

"What is it?" I asked after they had left.

"I saw it again," I said to me. "Before I fell."

I blinked, before understanding. "The black dog?"

He nodded, and I sighed.

"Naves … think about it. The first time we were nearly run over by the Knight Bus. And now this … what if Trelawney's right?"

"She's not," I told him confidantly. "The bus was a fluke and this time … well, I have no idea what this time was. The point is Harry, you're not going to die. Because you have –"

"Dumbledore?"

"Actually I was going to say me."

Harry actually let out a small laugh. "Thanks Navi."

I patted his hand. "It's what I'm here for."

He seemed to be struggling for something else to admit to, but he debating it in his head.

"Is there something else?" I asked, frowning.

"No," he finally said. "No, it's nothing."

"Well," I said, "when it's a something, let me know."

"Thanks," he repeated again. "I needed that."

I gave a small nod, and left to catch up with Hermione and Ron.

"What did he say?" Ron asked me.

"He wanted to know whether or not I'd started Snape's werewolf essay," I lied.

Ron didn't seem to buy it.

"Why didn't he ask us?"

I let out a laugh. "Because he knows that you haven't and Hermione's already finsished it. I, on the other hand, are a complete mystery."

"Got that right," Ron muttered under his breath, as he and Hermione went scarlet. I mentally patted myself on the back.

On Monday, things reteurned to normal.

Malfoy was almost beside himself with glee at Gryffindor's defeat. He had finally taken off his bandages, and celebrated having the full use of both arms again by doing spirited imitations of Harry falling off his broom. Malfoy spent much of their next Potions class doing Dementor imitations across the dungeon; Ron finally cracked and flung a large, slippery crocodile heart at Malfoy, which hit him in the face and caused Snape to take fifty points from Gryffindor.

I high-fived Ron for his aim, when Snape wasn't looking.

"If Snape's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again, I'm skiving off," said Ron as they headed toward Lupin's classroom after lunch. "Check who's in there, Hermione."

Hermione peered around the classroom door.

"It's okay!"

Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes.

Hermione and I exchanged knowing looks at this. We knew his secret.

Nevertheless, he smiled at the class as we took our seats, and everyone burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behavior while Lupin had been ill.

"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?"

"We don't know anything about werewolves —"

"— two rolls of parchment!"

"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Lupin asked, frowning slightly.

The babble broke out again.

"Yes, but he said we were really behind —"

"— he wouldn't listen —"

"— two rolls of parchment!"

Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.

"Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay."

"Oh no," said Hermione, looking very disappointed. "I've already finished it!"

Harry and I exchanged grins.

They had a very enjoyable lesson. Professor Lupin had brought along a glass box containing a Hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who looked as though he were made of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless looking.

"Lures travelers into bogs," said Professor Lupin as they took notes. "You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead — people follow the light — then —"

The Hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass. Gross.

When the bell rang, we all gathered up their our and headed for the door.

"Wait a moment, Harry," Lupin called. "I'd like a word."

I went ahead with Hermione and Ron, Harry telling me he'd talk to me later.

When he met up with us in the common room, he told us that Professor Lupin would be giving him 'anti-Dementor' lesson.

Harry's mood had also greatly improved after Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in their Quidditch match at the end of November.

Gryffindor were not out of the running for the Quidditch Cup after all, although they could not afford to lose another match.

Wood became repossessed of his manic energy, and they began training harder than ever.

I also gave up on attending the training sessions, taking ot doing homework in the warmth of common room.

Please, don't judge.

But really, it was a toss up between rain/hail/snow and a dry warm fire.

Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick, had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies. The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays. Both Ron and Hermione had decided to remain at Hogwarts, and though Ron said it was because he couldn't stand two weeks with Percy, and Hermione insisted she needed to use the library, Harry and I weren't fooled; they were doing it to keep us company, and we were very grateful.

To everyone's delight except Harry's and mine, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term. And there goes my good mood once again.

"We can do all our Christmas shopping there!" said Hermione. "Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!"

Resigned to the fact that we would be the only third years staying behind again, Harry borrowed a copy of Which Broomstick from Wood, and decided to spend the day reading up on the different makes. And I took to reading _Quidditch through the Ages._

On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Harry and I bid good-bye to Ron and Hermione, who were wrapped in cloaks and scarves, then turned up the marble staircase alone, and we headed back toward Gryffindor Tower. Snow had started to fall outside the windows, and the castle was very still and quiet.

"Psst — Harry, Navi!"

We turned, halfway along the third-floor corridor, to see Fred and George peering out at us from behind a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch.

"What are you doing?" said Harry curiously. "How come you're not going to Hogsmeade?"

"We've come to give you two a bit of festive cheer before we go," said Fred, with a mysterious wink. "Come in here…"

He nodded toward an empty classroom to the left of the one-eyed statue. HarryWe followed Fred and George inside. George closed the door quietly and then turned, beaming, to look at the two of us.

"Early Christmas present for you, Harry, you too, Navi" he said.

Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish and laid it on one of the desks. It was a large, square, very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it.

"What's that supposed to be?" Harry asked, and I was wondering the same thing.

"This, Harry, is the secret of our success," said George, patting the parchment fondly.

"It's a wrench, giving it to you," said Fred, "but we decided last night, your need's greater than ours."

"Anyway, we know it by heart," said George. "We bequeath it to you two. We don't really need it anymore."

"And what do we need with a bit of old parchment?" said Harry.

"A bit of old parchment!" said Fred, closing his eyes with a grimace as though Harry had mortally offended him. "Explain, George."

"Well… when we were in our first year — young, carefree, and innocent —"

Harry and I snorted.

"You two were _never _innocent," I commented, and Fred grinned at me.

" — well, more innocent than we are now — we got into a spot of bother with Filch."

"We let off a Dungbomb in the corridor and it upset him for some reason —"

"So he hauled us off to his office and started threatening us with the usual —"

"— detention —"

"— disembowelment —"

"— and we couldn't help noticing a drawer in one of his filing cabinets marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous."

"Don't tell me —" said Harry, starting to grin, where as I was already grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"Well, what would you've done?" said Fred. "George caused a diversion by dropping another Dungbomb, I whipped the drawer open, and grabbed — this."

"It's not as bad as it sounds, you know," said George. "We don't reckon Filch ever found out how to work it. He probably suspected what it was, though, or he wouldn't have confiscated it."

"And you know how to work it?"

"Oh yes," said Fred, smirking. "This little beauty's taught us more than all the teachers in this school."

"You're winding me up," said Harry, looking at the ragged old bit of parchment.

"Oh, are we?" said George.

He took out his wand, touched the parchment lightly, and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that George's wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:

Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

It was a map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. But the truly remarkable thing were the tiny ink dots moving around it, each labeled with a name in minuscule writing.

Astounded, Harry and I bent over it. A labeled dot in the top left corner showed that Professor Dumbledore was pacing his study; the caretaker's cat, Mrs. Norris, was prowling the second floor; and Peeves the Poltergeist was currently bouncing around the trophy room.

The map also showed a set of passages I had never entered. And many of them seemed to lead —

"Right into Hogsmeade," said Fred, tracing one of them with his finger. "There are seven in all. Now, Filch knows about these four" —

he pointed them out — "but we're sure we're the only ones who know about these. Don't bother with the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor. We used it until last winter, but it's caved in — completely blocked.

And we don't reckon anyone's ever used this one, because the Whomping Willow's planted right over the entrance.

But this one here, this one leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. We've used it loads of times. And as you might've noticed, the entrance is right outside this room, through that one-eyed old crone's hump."

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," sighed George, patting the heading of the map. "We owe them so much."

"Noble men, working tirelessly to help a new generation of lawbreakers," said Fred solemnly.

"Right," said George briskly. "Don't forget to wipe it after you've used it —"

"— or anyone can read it," Fred said warningly.

"Just tap it again and say, 'Mischief managed!' And it'll go blank."

"So, you young duo," said Fred, in an uncanny impersonation of Percy, "mind you behave yourselves."

"See you in Honeydukes," said George, winking.

They left the room, both smirking in a satisfied sort of way.

I looked at the classroom we stoof in and saw a Harry Potter, standing beside me.

Only it wasn't my name.

Not _Navi _anyway.

"Naveya Black".

Harry had spotted it as well, and looked up at me in shock.

"Black?" I asked, horrified. "Harry … you don't think I'm related to –" I couldn't actually say his name.

Harry just continued to stare at me.

"Harry?" I asked, praying that he would be able to tell me that this wasn't true.

"I don't know," he told me, before straightening up and looking me in the eye, "but even if he was, you're still Navi. Nothing's going to change that."

I hugged him in thanks, and he rolled up the map before stuffing it in his robes, and we edged out of the room, and hid behind the one-eyed witch statue.

Harry pulled out the map again and we saw that a two new ink figures had appeared upon it, labeled 'Harry Potter' and 'Naveya Black', I winced when I looked at my last name. The tiniest speech bubble had appeared next to our figures. The word inside said, 'Dissendium.'

"Dissendium!" Harry whispered, tapping the stone witch again.

At once, the statue's hump opened wide enough to admit a fairly thin person.

So, we'd definitely both fit.

Harry and I glanced quickly up and down the corridor, then he tucked the map away again, hoisted himself into the hole headfirst, and pushed himself forward, me following quickly after him.

**End of Chapter 16**

**Please, Review!**

**All this rain in Australia is really pissing me off.**

**Not that you people needed to hear ... see? ... that. Just merely a random comment**

**Navi out.**


	17. Chapter 17: An Unwanted Truth

_**A/N: I only own Navi and her mum … and my jar of tim tams. But no one cares about that.**_

**Chapter 17: An Unwanted Truth**

I slid a considerable way down what felt like a stone slide, then landed on something rather bony.

"Ow! Navi!"

"Sorry."

"For someone as skinny as you, you sure weight alot!"

"Hey!" I protested. "Muscle weighs more than fat!"

"Well, then how do you explain you, 'cause you've got neither."

"Ouch. Harry. That hurts my feelings."

"You'll get over it. Now, get off me."

I got up off of Harry and looked around. It was pitch dark. Beside me I heard Harry mutter "Lumos!" and saw that we were in a very narrow, low, earthy passageway. He raised the map, tapped it with the tip of his wand, and muttered, "Mischief managed!" The map went blank at once. He folded it carefully, tucked it inside his robes, then, we set off.

The passage twisted and turned, more like the burrow of a giant rabbit than anything else. Harry and I hurried along it, stumbling now and then on the uneven floor, Harry holding his wand out in front of him.

It took ages, but I had the thought of Honeydukes to sustain me. Sugar and chocolate. The food of Gods.

After what felt like an hour, the passage began to rise. Panting, we sped up, our faces hot, my feet very cold.

Ten minutes later, we came to the foot of some worn stone steps, which rose out of sight above him. Careful not to make any noise, Harry began to climb, me following him.

After countless steps, Harry hit his head on a trapdoor of some sorts.

Harry stood there, massaging the top of his head, listening. I couldn't hear any sounds above us, though. Very slowly, he pushed the trapdoor open and peered over the edge.

He was in a cellar, which was full of wooden crates and boxes. Harry climbed out of the trapdoor and I followed him through it, then replaced it — it blended so perfectly with the dusty floor that it was impossible to tell it was there.

We were in a cellar, which was full of wooden crates and boxes. We crept slowly toward the wooden staircase that led upstairs. Now we could definitely hear voices, not to mention the tinkle of a bell and the opening and shutting of a door.

We suddenly heard a door open much closer at hand; somebody was about to come downstairs.

"And get another box of Jelly Slugs, dear, they've nearly cleaned us out —" said a woman's voice.

A pair of feet was coming down the staircase. Harry leapt behind an enormous crate and I dived behind a barrel and curled up and out of sight, waiting for the footsteps to pass. I heard the man shifting boxes against the opposite wall. We might not get another chance —

Quickly and silently, Harry and I dodged out from our hiding places and climbed the stairs; looking back, we saw an enormous backside and shiny bald head, buried in a box. Harry and I reached the door at the top of the stairs, slipped through it, and found ourselves behind the counter of Honeydukes — we ducked, crept sideways, and then straightened up.

Honeydukes was so crowded with Hogwarts students that no one looked twice at either of us. We edged among them, looking around, I exchanged an amused look with Harry.

If only his fat cousin could see us now.

There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-colored toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavor Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizbees, the levitating sherbet balls that Ron had mentioned; along yet another wall were 'Special Effects' — sweets: Droobles Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-colored bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Pepper Imps ('breathe fire for your friends!'), Ice Mice ('hear your teeth chatter and squeak!'), peppermint creams shaped like toads ('hop realistically in the stomach!'), fragile sugar-spun quills, and exploding bonbons.

Harry and I squeezed himself through a crowd of sixth years and we saw a sign hanging in the farthest corner of the shop (UNUSUAL TASTES). Ron and Hermione were standing underneath it, examining a tray of blood-flavored lollipops. We sneaked up behind them.

"Ugh, no, Harry and Navi won't want one of those, they're for vampires, I expect," Hermione was saying.

"How about these?" said Ron, shoving a jar of Cockroach Clusters under Hermione's nose.

"Definitely not," said Harry.

Ron nearly dropped the jar.

"Harry!" squealed Hermione. "Navi! What are you doing here? How — how did you —?"

"Wow!" said Ron, looking very impressed, "you've learned to Apparate!"

"'Course we haven't," said Harry. He dropped his voice so that none of the sixth years could hear him and we told them all about the Marauder's Map. Minus my newfound last name.

"How come Fred and George never gave it tome!" said Ron, outraged. "I'm their brother!"

"But Harry isn't going to keep it!" said Hermione, as though the idea were ludicrous. "He's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Harry?"

"No, I'm not!" said Harry. "And it's Navi's too."

"Are you mad?" said Ron, goggling at Hermione. "Hand in something that good?"

"If I hand it in, I'll have to say where I got it! Filch would know Fred and George had nicked it!"

"But what about Sirius Black?" Hermione hissed. "He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!"

"He can't be getting in through a passage," said Harry quickly. "There are seven secret tunnels on the map, right? Fred and George reckon Filch already knows about four of them. And of the other three — one of them's caved in, so no one can get through it. One of them's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can't get out of it. And the one I just came through — well — it's really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar — so unless he knew it was there —"

What if Black _did_ know the passage was there? Ron, however, cleared his throat significantly, and pointed to a notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door.

BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall.

Happy Christmas!

"See?" said Ron quietly. "I'd like to see Black try and break into Honeydukes with Dementors swarming all over the village. Anyway, Hermione, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break-in, wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"

"Yes, but — but —" Hermione seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, Harry and Navi still shouldn't be coming into Hogsmeade. They haven't got a signed form! If anyone finds out, they'll be in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet — what if Sirius Black turns up today? Now?"

"He'd have a job spotting Harry in this," said Ron, nodding through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow. "Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas. They both deserves a break."

Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried.

"Are you going to report us?" Harry asked her, grinning.

"Oh — of course not — but honestly, Harry —"

"Seen the Fizzing Whizbees, Harry?" said Ron, grabbing him and leading him over to their barrel. "And the Jelly Slugs? And the Acid Pops? Fred gave me one of those when I was seven — it burnt a hole right through my tongue. I remember Mum walloping him with her broomstick." Ron stared broodingly into the Acid Pop box. "Reckon Fred'd take a bite of Cockroach Cluster if I told him they were peanuts?"

Doubtful, mate.

When Ron and Hermione had paid for all their sweets, the four of us left Honeydukes for the blizzard outside.

Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.

Harry and I were shivering; unlike the other two, we didn't have cloaks. They headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind, Ron and Hermione shouting through their scarves.

"That's the post office —"

"Zonko's is up there —"

"We could go up to the Shrieking Shack —"

"Tell you what," said Ron, his teeth chattering, "shall we go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?"

I was more than happy to agree to that.

It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.

"That's Madam Rosmerta," said Ron. "I'll get the drinks, shall I?" he added, going slightly red.

Harry, Hermione and I made our way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace. Ron came back five minutes later, carrying four foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.

Skill. That's not an easy thing to do.

"Happy Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.

I drank deeply. It was the most wonderful thing I'd ever drunk. It seemed to warm every part of me.

A sudden breeze ruffled Harry's unruly hair. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. Harry choked on his butterbeer. I turned around.

Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak — Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

In an instant, Ron and Hermione had forced Harry and I off our stools and under the table.

Harry and I crouched out of sight, Harry was dripping with Butterbeer. I counted myself lucky not to have been holding mine when Hermione shoved me underneath the table.

Somewhere above us, Hermione whispered, "Mobiliarbus!"

The Christmas tree beside our table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right in front of our table, hiding us from view.

Where did she learn that one?

Staring through the dense lower branches, Harry and I saw four sets of chair legs move back from the table right beside ours, then heard the grunts and sighs of the teachers and minister as they sat down.?

Next I saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels, and heard a woman's voice.

"A small gillywater —"

"Mine," said Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Four pints of mulled mead —"

"Ta, Rosmerta," said Hagrid.

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella —"

"Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.

An umbrella? Really?

"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister."

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge's voice. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us…"

"Well, thank you very much, Minister."

I watched the glittering heels march away and come back again.

Part of me wished Harry had brought his invisibility cloak so we could sneak away.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" came Madam Rosmerta's voice.

The lower part of Fudge's thick body twisted in his chair as though he were checking for eavesdroppers. Then he said in a quiet voice, "What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"

"I did hear a rumor," admitted Madam Rosmerta.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.

I exchanged a grin with Harry.

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly.

"You know that the Dementors have searched the whole village twice?" said Madam Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away… It's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, dear, I don't like them any more than you do," said Fudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution… unfortunate, but there you are… I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore — he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

And again, that makes him high on 'Navi's Most Favourite People' list.

Dumbledore, not Fudgie the whale.

"I should think not," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

"All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse…We all know what Black's capable of…"

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought…I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," said Fudge.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"

"Naturally," said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here — ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

Harry dropped his tankard with a loud clunk. Ron kicked him. I sent him a glare, but I too, was shocked.

"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course — exceptionally bright, in fact — but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers —"

"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money."

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily, and the other way around when Black married Heather Kensington. –"

"Oh, I remember Heather," I heard Rosmerta say. "Lovely girl. Her and Lily looked like sisters. They had the same red hair. They were best friends since day one. It was so sad when her and little Naveya died."

I froze at my name.

"Navi's still alive," I heard Hagrid say. "Good kid."

"What? Naveya is alive? But I thought –"

"No," replied McGonagall. "Word was that Regulus killed Navi. He obviously couldn't do it."

"I was astounded to find out she was alive," the minister proclaimed.

"Impossible," said Rosmerta

"She's up at Hogwarts now," the Minister told her. "It's all for the best. Imagine if word got out to Black that his daughter had been alive all this time. She'd be in terrible danger."

I could barely breathe.

"Not t'mention she's always seen 'round Harry," added Hagrid. "The two of 'em remind me o' Black and James when they were at school. The best o' friends, those two."

There was a small silence.

"I always imagined that it was the deaths of Heather and Naveya that sent Black over the edge," Rosmerta said. "Lily was her Godmother wasn't she? James was her godfather, I heard."

"No," said McGonagall. "James wasn't Navi's godfather. I remember Heather saying that making Black Harry's Godfather was enough. They didn't need a repeat of those two when they were older. A right pair of troublemakers. No, Heather managed to convince Black to name Remus as Navi's Godfather."

"Remus?" Rosmerta asked. "Remus Lupin?"

Mt _teacher _was my godfather?

"The very same," replied McGonagall. "It's strange though. That after all these years, we've never realised that Naveya was just hidden, and so close to Harry."

"How come the Ministry never found her?" Rosmerta asked.

"She doesn't have the Trace," said the Minister in a disbelieving tone. "No one seems to be able to figure out why."

"A right mystery tha' one," Hagrid said. "Looks jus' like Heather."

"The two have no idea, of course," said the Minister. " You can imagine how the idea would torment them."

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"Worse even than that, m'dear…" Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."

"How does that work?" said Madam Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.

"An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find — unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"

"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, especially after he lost Heather and Navi. That Black was planning to go into hiding himself… and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Black?" gasped Madam Rosmerta.

"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," said Professor McGonagall darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"

"He did," said Fudge heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed —"

"Black betrayed them?" breathed Madam Rosmerta.

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it —"

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

"Shh!" said Professor McGonagall.

"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead… an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared.

"Hagrid, please!" said Professor McGonagall. "Keep your voice down!"

"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'!

An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him —' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's.

Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. 'I won't need it anymore,' he says.

"I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him.

"But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to em anymore…"

A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Madam Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"

"Alas, if only we had," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew — another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."

"Pettigrew… that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" said Madam Rosmerta.

"Hero — worshipped Black and Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I — how I regret that now…" She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

"There, now, Minerva," said Fudge kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses — Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later — told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you? After what he did to Heather and Veya?'And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens…"

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy… foolish boy… he was always hopeless at dueling… should have left it to the Ministry…"

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands — I'd 've ripped him limb — from — limb," Hagrid growled.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudge sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I — I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him… a heap of bloodstained robes and a few — a few fragments —"

Holy mother of God. I was the kid of a _psycho_.

Is insanity hereditary?

Fudge's voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown.

"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," said Fudge thickly. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."

Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh.

"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say that he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. More than he was after the death of Heather and little Naveya. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man — cruel… pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them… but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored — asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the Dementors seemed to be having on him — and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."

"But what do you think he's broken out to do?" said Madam Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"

"I daresay that is his — er — eventual plan," said Fudge evasively. "But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing… but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again…"

There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass.

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," said Professor McGonagall.

One by one, the pairs of feet in front of us took the weight of their owners once more; hems of cloaks swung into sight, and Madam Rosmerta's glittering heels disappeared behind the bar. The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers had disappeared.

"Harry? Navi?"

Ron's and Hermione's faces appeared under the table. They were both staring at us, lost for words.

**End of Chapter 17.**

**Ooh. So we now know who Navi's Dad is …**

**What's going to happen next?**

**Review to find out!**


	18. Chapter 18: Rock For Christmas

**Chapter 18: Rocks for Christmas**

I don't know what happened after that, but I soon found myself striding in a certain direction, with a mutinous look on my face.

I slammed the door open and Professor Lupin jumped from where he was standing, and turned to look at me.

"Navi, I –"

"Is true?" I asked, knowing that angry tears were streaking down my cheeks.

Professor Lupin frowned. "I'm afraid, I don't follow you."

"Is he my father?" I asked.

Professor Lupin paled but didn't answer.

"IS HE?"

With my back against one of the walls, I slid down it, letting the tears fall.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" I asked myself.

"Naveya ..." Professor Lupin trailed off and I stood back up, finally remembering he was there, and went to walk out.

I stopped in the doorway and I turned back to look at him.

"You know, as my Godfather … you could of at least _pretended_ to care. And it's _Navi_."

With that said, I stormed out, not sure where I was headed.

I couldn't go back to the common room and face Harry.

Not yet, anyway.

In the end I found myself walking past a tapestry on the seventh floor when it happened.

A door that I hadn't noticed before, which was odd considering I had walked along the corridor three times, trying to decide what to do, wishing for a way not to go back to the common room.

I walked over to it, and tried the doornob. It turned and I pushed the door open, gasping at the sight before me.

There was a small, cosy room, with a nice large hammock, and Gryffindor hangings around the room.

Off to one side there was a door which led to a nice bathroom.

It was perfect.

Deciding that it wouldn't be in my favour to go to dinner, I went to sleep early, but it didn't really help my mood.

I had nightmares of someone screaming and green light, then the scene changed and Harry and Black were facing off and I was standing beside Black laughing at what was happening.

Several times I woke up in a cold sweat, and then a few tears would slide down my cheeks because I had lost my best friend. And no doubt, Hermione and Ron would stick by him.

So they should too.

How could any of them forgive me?

When I finally couldn't avoid hiding out any longer. I got up and headed up to Gryffindor Tower, where Harry, Ron and Hermione were arguing about something.

"— so obviously, the Malfoys knew Black was working for Voldemort —"

"— and Malfoy'd love to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew! Get a grip. Malfoy's just hoping you'll get yourself killed before he has to play you at Quidditch."

Tears filled my already sore and red eyes.

"Harry, please," said Hermione, her eyes now shining with tears, "Please be sensible. Black did a terrible, terrible thing, but d-don't put yourself in danger, it's what Black wants… Oh, Harry, you'd be playing right into Black's hands if you went looking for him. Your mum and dad wouldn't want you to get hurt, would they? They'd never want you to go looking for Black! And neither would Navi!"

"I'll never know what they'd have wanted, because thanks to Black, I've never spoken to them," said Harry shortly. "And as for Navi –"

"What about me?"

They all turned to look at me.

Hermione was looking at me worriedly, Ron was looking slightly scared of me, and I couldn't read Harry's expression.

"Look, if you're going to say something, say it now," I said. "You can even throw a couple of swings in too. I deserve it."

Hermione was looking between the two of us with wide eyes.

Harry took a couple of steps towards me, before his arms came around me in a hug.

"I was so worried!" he finally got out. "I thought something had happened to you."

I was confused. "Aren't you angry with me?" I asked. "Because my _father_ betrayed your parents."

He winced and pulled away from me.

"I was at first," he admitted sheepishly. "But then I remembered what I said before we went to Hogsmeade. You're still Navi. And it's not like you knew anything."

I nodded, before hugging Harry again.

There was a silence in which Crookshanks stretched luxuriously flexing his claws. Ron's pocket quivered.

"Look," said Ron, obviously casting around for a change of subject, "it's the holidays! It's nearly Christmas! Let's — let's go down and see Hagrid. We haven't visited him for ages!"

"No!" said Hermione quickly. "Harry isn't supposed to leave the castle, Ron —"

"Yeah, let's go," said Harry, perking up, "and I can ask him how come he never mentioned Black when he told me all about my parents!"

Further discussion of Sirius Black plainly wasn't what Ron had had in mind.

"Or we could have a game of chess," he said hastily, "or Gobstones. Percy left a set —"

"No, let's visit Hagrid," said Harry firmly. I agreed with him. I wanted to know why no one would tell me anything.

So we got our cloaks from our dormitories and set off through the portrait hole ("Stand and fight, you yellow-bellied mongrels!"), down through the empty castle and out through the oak front doors.

We made our way slowly down the lawn, making a shallow trench in the glittering, powdery snow, my socks and the hems of my cloak soaked and freezing. The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.

Ron knocked, but there was no answer.

"He's not out, is he?" said Hermione, who was shivering under her cloak.

Ron had his ear to the door.

"There's a weird noise," he said. "Listen — is that Fang?"

Harry, Hermione and I put our ears to the door too. From inside the cabin came a series of low, throbbing moans.

"Think we'd better go and get someone?" said Ron nervously.

"Hagrid!" called Harry, thumping the door. "Hagrid, are you in there?"

There was a sound of heavy footsteps, then the door creaked open. Hagrid stood there with his eyes red and swollen, tears splashing down the front of his leather vest.

"You've heard?" he bellowed, and he flung himself onto Harry's neck.

I blinked in shock and took a step back.

Hagrid being at least twice the size of a normal man, this was no laughing matter. Harry, about to collapse under Hagrid's weight, was rescued by Ron and Hermione, who each seized Hagrid under an arm and heaved him back into the cabin. I followed behind, still wide-eyed. Hagrid allowed himself to be steered into a chair and slumped over the table, sobbing uncontrollably, his face glazed with tears that dripped down into his tangled beard.

"Hagrid, what is it?" said Hermione, aghast.

Harry spotted an official-looking letter lying open on the table.

"What's this, Hagrid?"

Hagrid's sobs redoubled, but he shoved the letter toward Harry, who picked it up and read aloud:

"Dear Mr. Hagrid,

Further to our inquiry into the attack by a Hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident."

"Well, that's okay then, Hagrid!" said Ron, clapping Hagrid on the shoulder. But Hagrid continued to sob, and waved one of his gigantic hands, inviting Harry to read on.

"However, we must register our concern about the Hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20th, and we ask you to present yourself and your Hippogriff at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the Hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated.

Yours in fellowship…"

There followed a list of the school governors.

"Oh," said Ron. "But you said Buckbeak isn't a bad Hippogriff, Hagrid. I bet he'll get off."

"Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures!" choked Hagrid, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "They've got it in fer interestin' creatures!"

A sudden sound from the corner of Hagrid's cabin made Harry, Ron, and Hermione whip around. Buckbeak the Hippogriff was lying in the corner, chomping on something that was oozing blood all over the floor.

"I couldn' leave him tied up out there in the snow!" choked Hagrid. "All on his own! At Christmas."

Harry, Ron, Hermione and I looked at one another. We had never seen eye to eye with Hagrid about what he called 'interesting creatures' and other people called 'terrifying monsters.' On the other hand, there didn't seem to be any particular harm in Buckbeak. In fact, by Hagrid's usual standards, he was positively cute.

"You'll have to put up a good strong defense, Hagrid," said Hermione, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid's massive forearm. "I'm sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe."

"Won' make no diff'rence!" sobbed Hagrid. "Them Disposal devils, they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket! Scared o' him! An' if I lose the case, Buckbeak —"

Hagrid drew his finger swiftly across his throat, then gave a great wail and lurched forward, his face in his arms.

"What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?" said Harry.

"He's done more'n enough fer me already," groaned Hagrid. "Got enough on his plate what with keepin' them Dementors outta the castle, an' Sirius Black lurkin' around."

Ron and Hermione looked quickly at Harry and me, as though expecting us to start berating Hagrid for not telling us the truth about Black. But I couldn't do it.

"Listen, Hagrid," Harry said, "you can't give up. Hermione's right, you just need a good defense. You can call us as witnesses —"

"I'm sure I've read about a case of Hippogriff-baiting," said Hermione thoughtfully, "where the Hippogriff got off. I'll look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what happened."

Hagrid howled still more loudly. Harry and Hermione looked at Ron and me to help them.

"Er — shall I make a cup of tea?" said Ron.

We stared at him.

"It's what my mum does whenever someone's upset," Ron muttered, shrugging.

At last, after many more assurances of help, with a steaming mug of tea in front of him, Hagrid blew his nose on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and said, "Yer right. I can' afford to go ter pieces. Gotta pull meself together…"

Fang the boarhound came timidly out from under the table and laid his head on Hagrid's knee.

"I've not bin meself lately," said Hagrid, stroking Fang with one hand and mopping his face with the other. "Worried abou' Buckbeak, an' no one likin' me classes —"

"We do like them!" lied Hermione at once.

"Yeah, they're great!" said Ron. "Er — how are the flobberworms?"

"Dead," said Hagrid gloomily. "Too much lettuce."

"Oh no!" said Ron, his lip twitching.

"An' them Dementors make me feel ruddy terrible an' all," said Hagrid, with a sudden shudder. "Gotta walk past 'em ev'ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. 'S like bein' back in Azkaban —"

He fell silent, gulping his tea. Harry had told me about the time that Hagrid had been sent to Azkaban. It sounded like a horrid place. After a pause, Hermione said timidly, "Is it awful in there, Hagrid?"

"Yeh've no idea," said Hagrid quietly. "Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind… the day I got expelled from Hogwarts… day me dad died… day I had ter let Norbert go…"

His eyes filled with tears. Norbert was the baby dragon Hagrid had once won in a game of cards, so Harry tells me.

"Yeh can' really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' really see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep. When they let me out, it was like bein' born again, ev'rythin' came floodin' back, it was the bes' feelin' in the world. Mind, the Dementors weren't keen on lettin' me go."

"But you were innocent!" said Hermione.

Hagrid snorted.

"Think that matters to them? They don' care. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck there with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don' give a damn who's guilty an' who's not."

Hagrid went quiet for a moment, staring into his tea. Then he said quietly, "Thought o' jus' letting Buckbeak go… tryin' ter make him fly away… but how d'yeh explain ter a Hippogriff it's gotta go inter hidin'? An' — an' I'm scared o' breakin' the law…" He looked up at them, tears leaking down his face again. "I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban."

The trip to Hagrid's, though far from fun, had nevertheless had the effect Ron and Hermione had hoped. Both Harry and I were distracted from brooding about Black and, He, Ron, and Hermione and myself went to the library the next day and returned to the empty common room laden with books that might help prepare a defence for Buckbeak. The three of them sat in front of the roaring fire, slowly turning the pages of dusty volumes about famous cases of marauding beasts, speaking occasionally when they ran across something relevant.

"Here's something… there was a case in 1722… but the Hippogriff was convicted — ugh, look what they did to it, that's disgusting —"

"This might help, look — a Manticore savaged someone in 1296, and they let the Manticore off — oh — no, that was only because everyone was too scared to go near it…"

Meanwhile, in the rest of the castle, the usual magnificent Christmas decorations had been put up, despite the fact that hardly any of the students remained to enjoy them. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, mysterious lights shone from inside every suit of armour, and the Great Hall was filled with its usual twelve Christmas trees, glittering with golden stars. A powerful and delicious smell of cooking pervaded the corridors, and by Christmas Eve, it had grown so strong that even Scabbers poked his nose out of the shelter of Ron's pocket to sniff hopefully at the air.

On Christmas day, I was woken by Hermione, who was very excited about the opening of presents.

I grinned when I saw I had got some. The only presents I had gotten before were forced Kris Kringles back at the Orphanage, and Harry.

Grinning at Hermione I started to unwrap my presents.

There was food from Ron, a book on Quidditch from Hermione, because I had recently got into it, and a rock from Harry.

This was our little in-joke.

Back when we had just become friends … we were wandering around the neighbourhood when we were ambushed my Dudley and his gang.

I proceeded to throw a rock at them, hitting Dudley in the face, and they ran away with their tails between their legs.

We then collected the rock, and I gave it to him on his birthday, and he gave it to me for Christmas, for luck … of course, because Harry had been here the last couple of years … that tradition had been broken … but not anymore.

There was also a small gift of Honeydukes of chocolate from Professor Lupin, and I felt bad at yelling at him the other day.

When Hermione were finished, we decided to give the boys a visit

They were laughing about something or another.

"What're you two laughing about?" Hermione asked, who was carrying a rather grumpy looking Crookshanks, who had tinsel tied around his neck

"Don't bring him in here!" said Ron, hurriedly snatching Scabbers from the depths of his bed and stowing him in his pajama pocket.

Then I noticed one of Harry's presents.

The one thing he took to ogling when we were at Diagon Alley.

A _Firebolt_.

"Oh, Harry! Who sent you that?" asked Hermione.

"No idea," said Harry. "There wasn't a card or anything with it."

Hermione did not appear either excited or intrigued by the news. On the contrary, her face fell, and she bit her lip.

"What's the matter with you?" said Ron.

"I don't know," said Hermione slowly, "but it's a bit odd, isn't it? I mean, this is supposed to be quite a good broom, isn't it?"

Ron sighed exasperatedly.

"It's the best broom there is, Hermione," he said.

"So it must've been really expensive…"

"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' brooms put together," said Ron happily.

"Well… who'd send Harry something as expensive as that, and not even tell him they'd sent it?" said Hermione.

"Who cares?" said Ron impatiently. "Listen, Harry, can I have a go on it? Can I?"

"I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet!" said Hermione shrilly.

Harry, Ron and I looked at her.

"What d'you think Harry's going to do with it — sweep the floor?" said Ron.

But before Hermione could answer, Crookshanks sprang from a bed, right at Ron's chest.

"GET — HIM — OUT — OF — HERE!" Ron bellowed as Crookshanks's claws ripped his pajamas and Scabbers attempted a wild escape over his shoulder. Ron seized Scabbers by the tail and aimed a misjudged kick at Crookshanks that hit the trunk at the end of Harry's bed, knocking it over and causing Ron to hop up and down, howling with pain.

Crookshanks's fur suddenly stood on end. A shrill, tinny, whistling was filling the room. The Pocket Sneakoscope had become dislodged from Harry's old socks and was whirling and gleaming on the floor.

"I forgot about that!" Harry said, bending down and picking up the Sneakoscope. "I never wear those socks if I can help it…"

"I can see why," I said, looking at the socks.

The Sneakoscope whirled and whistled in his palm. Crookshanks was hissing and spitting at it.

"You'd better take that cat out of here, Hermione," said Ron furiously, sitting on Harry's bed nursing his toe. "Can't you shut that thing up?" he added to Harry as Hermione strode out of the room, Crookshanks's yellow eyes still fixed maliciously on Ron.

Harry stuffed the Sneakoscope back inside the socks and threw it back into his trunk. All that could be heard now were Ron's stifled moans of pain and rage. Scabbers was huddled in Ron's hands.

"He's not looking too good, is he?" Harry asked.

"It's stress!" exclaimed Ron. "He'd be fine if that big stupid furball left him alone!"

"Ron," I said calmingly, "i'll try to talk to Hermione on controlling it."

He just nodded, not saying anything else on the subject.

Christmas spirit was definitely thin on the ground in the Gryffindor common room that morning. Hermione had shut Crookshanks in her dormitory, but was furious with Ron for trying to kick him; Ron was still fuming about Crookshanks's fresh attempt to eat Scabbers. Harry and I gave up trying to make them talk to each other and took to examining the Firebolt, which he had brought down to the common room with him. For some reason this seemed to annoy Hermione as well; she didn't say anything, but she kept looking darkly at the broom as though it too had been criticizing her cat.

**End of Chapter 18.**

_**A/n: the rock thing is an actual on-going joke between one of my friends and me.**_

_**And we started it BEFORE Batman Begins. Just to clear up any confusion.**_

_**It's a mad rock by the way**_

_**Please review!**_


	19. Chapter 19: Christmas Lunch

**_A/N: Navi is mine. Everything else belongs to the totally awesome J.K. Rowling, who has made my life whole._**

**_Well, not whole ... i am yet to have visited the WWoHP, THEN my life will be complete._**

**_... I would also like to ask people if they wish this story to become a romance ... not in POA of course ... i'm not saying there WON'T be romance, i mean, Navi's going to become a teenage girl after all ... but ... never mind. Just tell me your wishes ... and i'll ask my mates as well._**

**Chapter 19: Christmas Lunch**

At lunchtime we headed down to the Great Hall, to find that the House tables had been moved against the walls again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather moldy-looking tailcoat. There were only two other students, an extremely nervous-looking first year and a sullen-faced Slytherin fifth year.

"Happy Christmas!" said Dumbledore as Harry, Ron, me and Hermione approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables… Sit down, sit down!"

Oh, this was going to be good fun.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and a grinning me sat down side by side at the end of the table, I ended up next to the Slytherin, who didn't seem to enjoy my prescence.

The feeling's mutual pal.

"Crackers!" said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly and tugged. I grinned, someone was having a lot of fun. and with a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witches hat topped with a stuffed vulture.

I snickered slightly; Snape's mouth thinned and he pushed the hat toward Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wizard's hat at once.

Me and Hermione exchanged crackers.

Grinning, I put the fedora hat on my head, tilting to the side for 'personality'.

"Dig in!" Dumbledore advised the table, beaming around. Seemingly the only one to share my enthusiasm.

As I happily did so, the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding toward them as though on wheels. She had put on a green sequined dress in honor of the occasion, making her look more than ever like a glittering, oversized dragonfly.

"Sybill, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.

"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest, most faraway voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness…"

"Certainly, certainly," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair —"

And he did indeed draw a chair in midair with his wand, which revolved for a few seconds before falling with a thud between Professors Snape and McGonagall. Neither of whom, looked entirely pleased with this. Suckers. Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down; her enormous eyes had been roving around the table, and she suddenly uttered a kind of soft scream.

"I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

Oh no. Not again.

"We'll risk it, Sybill," said Professor McGonagall impatiently. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."

Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.

"Tripe, Sybill?"

I grinned at McGonagall. She could be awesome on occasion.

Professor Trelawney ignored her. Eyes open again, she looked around once more and said, "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," said Dumbledore, indicating that everybody should start serving themselves. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."

I exchanged a knowing look with Hermione.

"But surely you already knew that, Sybill?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyebrows raised.

Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a very cold look.

"Certainly I knew, Minerva," she said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."

"That explains a great deal," said Professor McGonagall tartly.

To stop a laugh I accidently inhaled some of my lunch, and began coughing. Dumbledore waved his hand, and my airway became clear immediately.

Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty.

"If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him —"

"Imagine that," said Professor McGonagall dryly.

"I doubt," said Dumbledore, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end to Professor McGonagall and Professor Trelawney's conversation, "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?"

"Yes, Headmaster," said Snape.

"Good," said Dumbledore. "Then he should be up and about in no time… Derek, have you had any of the chipolatas? They're excellent."

The first-year boy went furiously red on being addressed directly by Dumbledore, and took the platter of sausages with trembling hands.

Professor Trelawney behaved almost normally until the very end of Christmas dinner, two hours later. Full to bursting with Christmas dinner and still wearing their cracker hats, Harry and Ron got up first from the table and she shrieked loudly.

"My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?"

"Dunno," said Ron, looking uneasily at Harry.

"I doubt it will make much difference," said Professor McGonagall coldly, "unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall."

Even Ron laughed. Professor Trelawney looked highly affronted.

"Coming?" Harry said to Hermione and me.

"Sure," I said, getting up.

"No," Hermione muttered. "I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall."

"Probably trying to see if she can take any more classes," yawned Ron as we make our way into the Entrance Hall, which was completely devoid of mad axe-men plotting our demise.

When we reached the portrait hole they found Sir Cadogan enjoying a Christmas part with a couple of monks, several previous headmasters of Hogwarts and his fat pony. He pushed up his visor toasted them with a flagon of mead.

"Happy — hic — Christmas! Password?"

"Scurvy cur," said Ron.

"And the same to you, sir!" roared Sir Cadogan, as the painting swung forward to admit them.

Harry went straight up to the dormitory, brought his Firebolt and the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermione had given him for his birthday downstairs. The three of us simply sat admiring it from every angle, until the portrait hole opened, and Hermione came in, accompanied by Professor McGonagall.

We stared at her, all of us holding the Firebolt. Hermione walked around us, sat down, picked up the nearest book and hid her face behind it.

"So that's it, is it?" said Professor McGonagall beadily, walking over to the fireside and staring at the Firebolt. "Miss Granger has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Potter."

Harry and Ron looked around at Hermione. They could see her forehead reddening over the top of her book, which was upside-down.

I can actually read like that. It wasn't an easy skill to master. I kept mixing up my Bs, and Ds.

"May I?" said Professor McGonagall, but she didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of our hands. She examined it carefully from handle to twig-ends. "Hmm. And there was no note at all, Potter? No card? No message of any kind?"

"No," said Harry blankly.

"I see…" said Professor McGonagall. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Potter."

"W — what?" said Harry, scrambling to his feet. "Why?"

"It will need to be checked for jinxes," said Professor McGonagall. "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down —"

I gaped at her.

"Strip it down?" repeated Ron, as though Professor McGonagall was mad.

"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks," said Professor McGonagall. "You will have it back if we are sure it is jinx-free."

"There's nothing wrong with it!" said Harry, his voice shaking slightly. "Honestly, Professor —"

"You can't know that, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, quite kindly, "not until you've flown it, at any rate, and I'm afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed."

Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Harry stood staring after her, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in his hands. I was probably resembling a sad puppy.

Okay, that was vain. But seriously, I have mad skills at creating the 'puppy-dog' trick. It has gotten me away with a few things in the past. And even out of a couple of detentions here. What can I say? I work fast.

Ron, however, rounded on Hermione.

"What did you go running to McGonagall for?"

Hermione threw her book aside. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron defiantly.

"Because I thought — and Professor McGonagall agrees with me — that that broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!"

I suddenly forgave her for doing what she did.

But I flinched at the mention of my psychotic father.

Ron and Harry seemed furious with Hermione though. Who were as though the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage. Hermione, who remained convinced that she had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room, dragging me along for long study sessions in the library. And heling Hagrid with Buckbeak.

Not that I was complaining. He needed all the help he could get.

And I actually started learning some magical history.

I kept falling asleep in class, along with everyone else.

**End of Chapter 19.**

**I am willing to resort to threats for reviews.**

**I mean that.**

**Remember: Romance?**

**Or romance that doesn't last very long and has no significance to the plot?**

**Comment to vote.**


	20. Chapter 20: You Can't Please Everyone

**Chapter 20: You Can't Please Everyone ... But I Can.**

Classes started again and I was thankful for the ability to finally have the excuse to hang out with the boys without having to fight with Hermione about taking sides.

Our first Care of Magical Creatures class after the holidays was pretty cool.

Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for ourenjoyment, and we spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs. The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun; Professor Trelawney was now teaching uspalmistry, and she lost no time in informing Harry that he had the shortest life line she had ever seen. And my love line was apparently terrible.

Cue the chocolate induced sugar coma.

Just kidding.

And defence was awesome as usual, although, I chickened out every time I wanted to apologise to Professor Lupin for screaming at him.

Not to mention it was awkward (for me anyway) when he called on me in class.

"Still looks ill, doesn't he?" said Ron as we walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. "What d'you reckon's the matter with him?"

There was a loud and impatient "tuh" from behind us. It was Hermione, who had been sitting at the feet of a suit of armor, repacking her bag, which was so full of books it wouldn't close.

I felt a pang of sympathy for her. She was stressed to the max these days.

All that homework.

"And what are you tutting at us for?" said Ron irritably.

"Nothing," said Hermione in a lofty voice, heaving her bag back over her shoulder.

"Yes, you were," said Ron. "I said I wonder what's wrong with Lupin, and you —"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, with a look of maddening superiority.

"If you don't want to tell us, don't," snapped Ron.

"Fine," said Hermione haughtily, and she marched off.

"She doesn't know," said Ron, staring resentfully after Hermione. "She's just trying to get us to talk to her again."

I scowled at him and hurried of after Hermione. He didn't have to be such a git about things.

McGonagall seemed to have found out that I knew about my heritage, judging by the looks I was receiving.

And twice, she called me 'Miss Bl–'.

Which was rather irritating.

* * *

On Thursday evening, Harry began his anti-Dementor lessons, and I noticed that something was up when he came back, but he obviously didn't want to talk to me about it.

Besides, everyone was distracted by Quidditch, and I knew that it would help Harry take his mind off things.

Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Wood, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. He therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This meant that with Lupin's anti-Dementor classes, Harry had just one night a week to do all his homework.

And, due to his strained relationship with Hermione, was turning to _me _for help.

Shouldn't it be the other way around? I mean, i'd been there less than everyone else.

Even so, none of us were showing the strain nearly as much as Hermione, whose immense workload finally seemed to be getting to her. Every night, without fail, Hermione was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted. I helped her when I could, and gave her some sticky notes so she could mark pages in her books which she seemed very grateful for.

"How's she doing it?" Ron muttered to Harry and me one evening as Harry sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape. Harry looked up. Hermione was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books.

"Getting to all her classes!" Ron said. "I heard her talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday's lesson, but Hermione can't've been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she's never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she's never missed one of them either!"

I've been trying to throw off Hermione's trail for a few days now.

It didn't seem to be working.

A couple of moments later, Wood came up to Harry.

"Bad news, Harry. I've just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She — er — got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I told her I didn't care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first."

Wood shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, the way she was yelling at me… you'd think I'd said something terrible."

He was kidding himself, right?

"Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it…" He screwed up his face and imitated Professor McGonagall's severe voice. "As long as necessary, Wood"… I reckon it's time you ordered a new broom, Harry. There's an order form at the back of Which Broomstick… you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Malfoy's got."

"I'm not buying anything Malfoy thinks is good," said Harry flatly.

Good for him. I wouldn't either.

Really. I feel sorry for Malfoy's parents.

Or rather, I would. Had I not heard stories from Harry about Malfoy's father.

January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but Harry still hadn't ordered a new broom. Harry was now asking Professor McGonagall for news of the Firebolt after every Transfiguration lesson, Ron standing hopefully at his shoulder, Hermione rushing past with her face averted, and me, standing in the background, bored.

"No, Potter, you can't have it back yet," Professor McGonagall told him the twelfth time this happened, before he'd even opened his mouth. "We've checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Flitwick believes the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we've finished checking it. Now, please stop badgering me."

But soon enough, before the game, Harry was given it back.

When we made it back to the common room, we were surrounded by people and I was tempted to pretend to faint as a joke.

But, that wouldn't go down well Madam Pomfrey.

Besides, no one would notice over the chatter.

"Where'd you get it, Harry?"

"Will you let me have a go?"

"Have you ridden it yet, Harry?"

"Ravenclaw'll have no chance, they're all on Cleansweep Sevens!"

"Can I just hold it, Harry?"

After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt was Passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and we had a clear view of Hermione, the only person who hadn't rushed over to them, bent over her work and carefully avoiding their eyes. Harry, Ron and I approached her table and at last, she looked up.

"I got it back," said Harry, grinning at her and holding up the Firebolt.

"See, Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" said Ron.

"Well — there might have been!" said Hermione. "I mean, at least you know now that it's safe!"

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Harry. "I'd better put it upstairs."

"I'll take it!" said Ron eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his rat tonic."

He took the Firebolt and, holding it as if it were made of glass, carried it away up the boys' staircase.

"Can I sit down, then?" Harry asked Hermione.

"I suppose so," said Hermione, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair.

I looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, at the even longer Muggle Studies essay ('Explain Why Muggles Need Electricity') and at the rune translation Hermione was now poring over.

"How are you getting through all this stuff?" Harry asked her.

"Oh, well — you know — working hard," said Hermione. She looked almost as tired as Lupin. "Navi helps a lot."

"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Harry asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her rune dictionary.

"I couldn't do that!" said Hermione, looking scandalised.

"Arithmancy looks terrible," said Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart.

"Oh no, it's wonderful!" said Hermione earnestly. "It's my favorite subject! It's —"

But exactly what was wonderful about Arithmancy, Harry and I never found out. At that precise moment, a strangled yell echoed down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder — and then Ron came leaping into view, dragging with him a bedsheet.

"LOOK!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table. "LOOK!" he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face.

"Ron, what —?"

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"

Hermione was leaning away from Ron, looking utterly bewildered. Harry looked down at the sheet Ron was holding. There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like —

"BLOOD!" Ron yelled into the stunned silence. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"

"N — no," said Hermione in a trembling voice.

Ron threw something down onto Hermione's rune translation. Hermione and Harry leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.

So much for forgiving her.

It looked like the end of Ron and Hermione's friendship.

Each was so angry with the other that Harry and I couldn't see how they'd ever make up. Ron was enraged that Hermione had never taken Crookshanks's attempts to eat Scabbers seriously, hadn't bothered to keep a close enough watch on him, and was still trying to pretend that Crookshanks was innocent by suggesting that Ron look for Scabbers under all the boys' beds. Hermione, meanwhile, maintained fiercely that Ron had no proof that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, that the ginger hairs might have been there since Christmas, and that Ron had been prejudiced against her cat ever since Crookshanks had landed on Ron's head in the Magical Menagerie.

Personally, Harry and I were both pretty sure that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, and when he tried to point out to Hermione that the evidence all pointed that way, she lost her temper with Harry too.

"Okay, side with Ron, I knew you would!" she said shrilly. "First the Firebolt, now Scabbers, everything's my fault, isn't it! Just leave me alone, Harry, I've got a lot of work to do!"

I kept my mouth shut. Staying friends with everyone. I preferred it that way.

Very much so.

Especially after I thought I had lost them all after finding out about my _father._

* * *

Ron had taken the loss of his rat very hard indeed.

"Come on, Ron, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was," said Fred bracingly. "And he's been off-color for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly — one swallow — he probably didn't feel a thing."

Wow. Mental pictures.

"Fred!" said Ginny indignantly.

"All he did was eat and sleep, Ron, you said it yourself," said George.

"He bit Goyle for us once!" Ron said miserably. "Remember, Harry?"

"Yeah, that's true," said Harry.

Wait, what? I hadn't heard this story.

"His finest hour," said Fred, unable to keep a straight face. "Let the scar on Goyle's finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory. Oh, come on, Ron, get yourself down to Hogsmeade and buy a new rat, what's the point of moaning?"

I never understood that concept.

You can't just _replace _a pet.

It doesn't work like that.

I remember the time at the orphanage with Tiny.

He was gone. And no other pet would ever be able to replace his memory.

But I guess one could always make new ones.

... And that sounded deeply insightful, now I have to plot with Peeves to make up for it.

Water balloons, maybe?

**End of Chapter 20.**

**I have now decided that updates won't happen until i get at lease _two _reviews (for this or other chapters) ... yes, i have started threats.**

**Deal with it.**

**Navi out.**


	21. Chapter 21: Gryffindor VS Ravenclaw

**Chapter 21: Gryffindor VS Ravenclaw.**

In a last-ditch attempt to cheer Ron up, Harry and me persuaded him to come along to the Gryffindor team's final practice before the Ravenclaw match, so that he could have a ride on the Firebolt after they'd finished. This did seem to take Ron's mind off Scabbers for a moment ("Great! Can I try and shoot a few goals on it?") so we set off for the Quidditch field together.

Madam Hooch, who was still overseeing Gryffindor practices to keep an eye on Harry, was justas impressed with the Firebolt as everyone else had been. She took it in her hands before takeoff and gave them the benefit of her "professional opinion".

"Look at the balance on it! If the Nimbus series has a fault, it's a slight list to the tail end — you often find they develop a drag after a few years. They've updated the handle too, a bit slimmer than the Cleansweeps, reminds me of the old Silver Arrows — a pity they've stopped making them. I learned to fly on one, and a very fine old broom it was too…"

She continued in this vein for some time, until Wood said, "Er — Madam Hooch? Is it okay if Harry has the Firebolt back? We need to practice…"

"Oh — right — here you are, then, Potter," said Madam Hooch. "I'll sit over here with Weasley and Bl –"

And there goes my good mood. I swear, one of these days, a teacher's going to forget comlpetely, and then the whole school will be against me.

She, Ron and moi left the field to sit in the stadium, and the Gryffindor team gathered around Wood for his final instructions for tomorrow's match.

And at long last, Harry mounted his Firebolt, and kicked off from the ground.

The broomstick seemed to glide in the air; it sped across the field at such speed that Harry was just a red blur; he turned it so sharply that Alicia Spinnet screamed, then he went into a perfectly controlled dive, brushing the grassy field with his toes before rising thirty, forty, fifty feet into the air again —

"Harry, I'm letting the Snitch out!" Wood called.

Harry turned and raced a Bludger toward the goal posts; he outstripped it easily, saw the Snitch dart out from behind Wood, and within ten seconds had caught it tightly in his hand.

The team cheered madly. Harry let the Snitch go again, gave it a minute's head start, then tore after it, weaving in and out of the others; he seemed to spot it lurking near Katie Bell's knee, looped her easily, and caught it again.

It was the best practice ever; the team, inspired by the presence of the Firebolt in their midst, performed their best moves faultlessly, and by the time they hit the ground again, Wood didn't have a single criticism to make, which, as George Weasley pointed out, was a first.

"I can't see what's going to stop us tomorrow!" said Wood. "Not unless — Harry, you've sorted out your Dementor problem, haven't you?"

"Yeah," said Harry, thinking of his feeble Patronus and wishing it were stronger.

"The Dementors won't turn up again, Oliver. Dumbledore'd go ballistic," said Fred confidently.

"Well, let's hope not," said Wood. "Anyway — good work, everyone. Let's get back to the tower… turn in early…"

"I'm staying out for a bit; Ron wants a go on the Firebolt," Harry told Wood, and while the rest of the team headed off to the locker rooms, Harry strode over to Ron and me, after we'd vaulted the barrier to the stands and came to meet him. Madam Hooch had fallen asleep in her seat.

"Here you go," said Harry, handing Ron the Firebolt.

Ron, an expression of ecstasy on his face, mounted the broom and zoomed off into the gathering darkness while Harry and I walked around the edge of the field, watching him.

After he'd had a small fly, Harry then handed the broomstick over to me, and I blanked out.

"Harry," I said, "I can't do this."

He grinned at me. "Sure you can."

I whimpered in a feeble protest, as Harry gave me instruction on flying in general.

Shaking, I mounted the broom, thankful I was cheating and wearing my black jeans under my robes, and inhaled deeply, before kicking off from the ground.

I'm telling all of you now, there is absolutely nothing that can compare to the feeling of being in the air.

It was freedom in itself.

Nothing could touch me. I could do anything, or be anyone.

I surged forward, diving and twisting, when suddenly a red ball came flying at me from out of nowhere, and going strictly on reflex, I caught it, then looked around for the person who threw it.

Harry and Ron were gaping at me.

"What?" I asked.

"You should try out," Harry said eventually. "You'd be great."

I beamed at the compliment and soared back to the ground, handing the broom back over to Ron, who proceeded to keep flying until dark.

"You'd be a great Chaser," Harry told me.

I shrugged. "I couldn't take away the girls' positions. They're too awesome as a team."

Harry ruffled my hair in response and I slapped his hand away.

Call me vain, but I loved my hair.

Madam Hooch then awoke with a start, told Harry, Ron and myself off for not waking her, and insisted that we go back to the castle.

Harry shouldered the Firebolt and he, me and Ron walked out of the shadowy stadium, discussing the Firebolt's superbly smooth action, its phenomenal acceleration, and its pinpoint turning.

Harry stopped dead.

"What's the matter?" said Ron, and I looked out into the darkness trying to see what Harry was.

Harry pointed. Ron pulled out his wand and muttered, "Lumos!"

A beam of light fell across the grass, hit the bottom of a tree, and illuminated its branches; there, crouching among the budding leaves, was Crookshanks.

"Get out of here!" Ron roared, and he stooped down and seized a stone lying on the grass, but before he could do anything else, Crookshanks had vanished with one swish of his long ginger tail.

"See?" Ron said furiously, chucking the stone down again. "She's still letting him wander about wherever he wants — probably washing down Scabbers with a couple of birds now…"

Harry and I didn't say anything and we set off for the castle once more.

The next morning, I accompanied the rest of the third year Gryffindors, all of whom seemed to think the Firebolt deserved a sort of guard of honor. As Harry entered the Great Hall, heads turned in the direction of the Firebolt, and there was a good deal of excited muttering. And we all saw, with enormous satisfaction, that the Slytherin team were all looking thunderstruck.

"Did you see his face?" said Ron gleefully, looking back at Malfoy. "He can't believe it! This is brilliant!"

Wood, too, was basking in the reflected glory of the Firebolt.

"Put it here, Harry," he said, laying the broom in the middle of the table and carefully turning it so that its name faced upward.

I was shaking in silent laughter. This was _so_ overboard.

People from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were soon coming over to look. Cedric Diggory came over to congratulate Harry on having acquired such a superb replacement for his Nimbus, and Percy's Ravenclaw girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, asked if she could actually hold the Firebolt.

"Now, now, Penny, no sabotage!" said Percy heartily as she examined the Firebolt closely. "Penelope and I have got a bet on," he told the team. "Ten Galleons on the outcome of the match!"

Penelope put the Firebolt down again, thanked Harry, and went back to her table.

"Harry — make sure you win," said Percy, in an urgent whisper. "I haven't got ten Galleons. Yes, I'm coming, Penny!" And he bustled off to join her in a piece of toast.

"Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" said a cold, drawling voice.

Draco Malfoy had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Goyle right behind him.

"Yeah, reckon so," said Harry casually.

"Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?" said Malfoy, eyes glittering maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with a parachute — in case you get too near a Dementor."

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.

I glowered.

"Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy," said Harry. "Then it could catch the Snitch for you."

I burst into laughter along with the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed, and he stalked away. We watched him rejoin the rest of the Slytherin team, who put their heads together, no doubt asking Malfoy whether Harry's broom really was a Firebolt.

At a quarter to eleven, the Gryffindor team set off for the locker rooms. The weather couldn't have been more different from their match against Hufflepuff. It was a clear, cool day with a very light breeze; there would be no visibility problems this time.

On my way to the match I accidentally bumped into Professor Lupin.

I mumbled an apology before going to walk away, when I stopped and turned back around.

"Professor?" I asked, and he turned to face me, a patient look on his face.

"I – I'm sorry for the things I said. I was angry and –"

To my surprise he actually laughed.

"Don't worry, Navi," he said to me. "I don't hold anything against you. You were shocked, and you felt like you needed someone to blame."

I looked at my feet shamefully.

"Although," he said, and I looked up to see a confused, yet thoughtful look on his face. "I'm … confused, as to how you managed to find out."

He looked at me calculatingly, as if expecting me to crack and tell him everything.

Which was tempting, but I opted for a shrug instead.

He nodded in understanding, before smiling at me.

"Enjoy the game."

* * *

I was in a way better mood when I took my seat and cheered loudly along with everyone else as the teams walked onto the field.

The captains shook hands and the players mounted their brooms.

… And the match began

Harry kicked off into the air and the Firebolt zoomed higher and faster than any other broom; he soared around the stadium and I'm guessing, began looking for the snitch, while I took to listening to the commentary, which was being provided by the Weasley twins' friend Lee Jordan.

"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship —"

"Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" interrupted Professor McGonagall's voice, and I grinned.

"Right you are, Professor — just giving a bit of background information — the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and —"

"Jordan!"

"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor, heading for goal…"

Harry streaked past Katie in the opposite direction, while the Ravenclaw seeker, Cho Chang, was tailing him closely. She was undoubtedly a very good flier — she kept cutting across him, forcing him to change direction.

Harry moved the Firebolt forward as they rounded the Ravenclaw goal posts and Cho fell behind. Just as Katie succeeded in scoring the first goal of the match, and the Gryffindor end of the field went wild, everyone was cheering around me.

Harry dived; Cho saw what he was doing and tore after him —

Then a Bludger, hit by one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, came pelting out of nowhere; Harry veered off course, avoiding it by an inch, thus losing the snitch.

I "Ooooooh"ed in disappointment along with the rest of the Gryffindor supporters, but much applause for their Beater from the Ravenclaw end. George Weasley vented his feelings by hitting the second Bludger directly at the offending Beater, who was forced to roll right over in midair to avoid it.

"Gryffindor leads by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now, see it turn — Chang's Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt's precision — balance is really noticeable in these long —"

"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"

He's getting paid? Can I sign up?

Ravenclaw was pulling back; they had now scored three goals, which put Gryffindor only fifty points ahead — if Cho got the Snitch before Harry, Ravenclaw would win. Harry dropped lower, narrowly avoiding a Ravenclaw Chaser, looking around the field frantically —

Harry suddenly accelerated, eyes fixed on something ahead — but just then, Cho appeared out of thin air, blocking him —

"HARRY, THIS IS NO TIME TO BE A GENTLEMAN!" Wood roared as Harry swerved to avoid a collision. Everyone heard him. "KNOCK HER OFF HER BROOM IF YOU HAVE TO!"

Harry turned his Firebolt upward, having lost the snitch again, and was soon twenty feet above the game. Cho was following him… She'd decided to mark him rather than search for the Snitch herself.

He dived again, and Cho, thinking he'd seen the Snitch, tried to follow; Harry pulled out of the dive very sharply; she hurtled downward; he rose fast as a bullet once more, before he accelerated; so, many feet below, did Cho. He was winning, gaining on the Snitch with every second — then —

Three Dementors, three tall, black, hooded Dementors, were looking up at him.

But they didn't look like Dementors.

Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of his wand.

It looked kind of like a deer.

It had shot directly at the Dementors but I didn't pause to watch; keeping my eyes on Harry — he was nearly there. He stretched out the hand still grasping his wand and just managed to close his fingers over the small Snitch.

Madam Hooch's whistle sounded. Harry turned around in midair and six scarlet blurs beared down on him; next moment, he was lost in a team group hug.

The roars of the Gryffindor crowd were almost deafening.

With me and Ron in the lead Harry was soon engulfed by the cheering crowd.

"Yes!" Ron yelled, yanking Harry's arm into the air. "Yes! Yes!"

"Well done, Harry!" said Percy, looking delighted. "Ten Galleons to me! Must find Penelope, excuse me —"

"Good for you, Harry!" roared Seamus Finnigan.

"Nice catch!" I said, grinning.

"Ruddy brilliant!" boomed Hagrid over the heads of the milling Gryffindors.

Harry turned around to see Professor Lupin, who looked both shaken and pleased.

"The Dementors didn't affect me at all!" Harry said excitedly. "I didn't feel a thing!"

"That would be because they — er — weren't Dementors," said Professor Lupin, and my eyebrows shot up. "Come and see —"

He led Harry out of the crowd, me following until they were able to see the edge of the field.

"You gave Mr. Malfoy quite a fright," said Lupin.

Harry and I stared. Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin team Captain, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It looked as though Malfoy had been standing on Goyle's shoulders. Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost fury on her face, was Professor McGonagall.

"An unworthy trick!" she was shouting. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"

If anything could have set the seal on Gryffindor's victory, it was this. Ron, who had fought his way through to Harry's side, doubled up with laughter as they watched Malfoy fighting to extricate himself from the robe, Goyle's head still stuck inside it.

"Come on, Harry!" said George, fighting his way over. "Party! Gryffindor common room, now!"

"Right," said Harry, and we all headed up to the Gryffindor common room to begin our party.

**End of Chapter 21.**

_**a/n: Okay, so Gryffindor's won and Navi's made a dodgy apology to Lupin, all is well ... for now.**_

_**And can we please remember to tell me your thoughts on whther this should become a romance fic or not? Only one person has so far (Actually two, but Spam doesn't count(He's a mate from school, only i can call him that, and i yell at anyone who tries)) ... anyway, so yeah, tell me your thoughts on it.**_

_**Oh, and i am happy.**_

_**Why am i happy?**_

_**Because the number of reviews is the same as the number of chapters ... not counting this one.**_

_**REVIEW!**_

_**Navi out.**_


	22. Chapter 22: Call Me Who I'm Not

_**Disclaimer: Navi belongs to me. I am not J.K (the awesome person that she is). That is all.**_

**Chapter 22: Call Me Who I'm Not**

It felt as though we had already won the Quidditch Cup; the party went on all day and well into the night. Fred and George Weasley disappeared for a couple of hours and returned with armfuls of bottles of butterbeer, pumpkin fizz, and several bags full of Honeydukes sweets.

"How did you do that?" squealed Angelina Johnson as George started throwing Peppermint Toads into the crowd.

Fred muttered something into Harry's ear. I'm pretty sure I managed to catch the word 'Padfoot', and I grinned.

Ah. Help from the famous Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.

Should've known.

I bow down to those men. Bloody geniuses those four.

Whoever they are.

Only one person wasn't joining in the festivities. Hermione, incredibly, was sitting in a corner, attempting to read an enormous book entitled Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles. Harry and I broke away from the table where Fred and George had started juggling butterbeer bottles and went over to her.

"Did you even come to the match?" Harry asked her.

"Of course I did," said Hermione in a strangely high-pitched voice, not looking up. "And I'm very glad we won, and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday."

I sighed inwardly. She really had taken on too much.

"Come on, Hermione, come and have some food," Harry said, looking over at Ron and wondering whether he was in a good enough mood to forgive Hermione. Or at least sweep the problem under the rug.

I grinned, remembering a conversation between Harry and me when we were younger.

_Harry: Why can't they just sweep it under the rug?_

_Me: Yeah, but you sweep too much under it then you get a lumpy rug._

I remember those days … back to reality once more …

"I can't, Harry. I've still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read!" said Hermione, now sounding slightly hysterical. "Anyway…" She glanced over at Ron. "He doesn't want me to join in."

There was no arguing with this, as Ron chose that moment to say loudly, "If Scabbers hadn't just been eaten, he could have had some of those Fudge Flies. He used to really like them —"

Hermione burst into tears. Before Harry or I could say or do anything, she tucked the enormous book under her arm, and, still sobbing, ran toward the staircase to the girls' dormitories and out of sight.

I sighed and wandered over to the couch and dropped onto it, burying my face into one of the pillows, mumbling about 'stupid friends' and even over the noise, I was out in minutes.

* * *

"AAARRGGHH! NOOO!"

I shot up from where I was and jumped to peer up the boys' dormitory, only to be knocked to the ground by someone.

My head hit the ground and my vision blurred, and I blinked rapidly, trying to get it to return to normal.

"Heather?" a scratchy voice asked, and then I heard raised voices, and suddenly felt a hand on my cheek.

"Naves?" Harry asked, and the blur cleared away. "Are you alright?"

"Wha's goin' on?" I asked tiredly.

"Are you sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?"

"I'm telling you, I saw him!"

"What's all the noise?"

"Professor McGonagall told us to go to bed!"

A few of the girls had come down their staircase, pulling on dressing gowns and yawning. Boys, too, were reappearing.

"Excellent, are we carrying on?" said Fred Weasley brightly.

"Everyone back upstairs!" said Percy, hurrying into the common room and pinning his Head Boy badge to his pyjamas as he spoke.

"Perce — Sirius Black!" said Ron faintly. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"

My eyes widened at that.

The common room went very still.

Oh, bugger.

(Okay, I actually thought of a worse word … but it's not suitable for kiddies.)

"Nonsense!" said Percy, looking startled. "You had too much to eat, Ron — had a nightmare —"

"I'm telling you —"

"Now, really, enough's enough!"

Professor McGonagall was back. She slammed the portrait behind her as she entered the common room and stared furiously around.

"I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!"

"I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor!" said Percy, puffing himself up indignantly. "I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare —"

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron yelled. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"

Professor McGonagall stared at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"

"Ask him!" said Ron, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. "Ask him if he saw —"

Glaring suspiciously at Ron, Professor McGonagall pushed the portrait back open and went outside. The whole common room listened with bated breath. "Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Certainly, good lady!" cried Sir Cadogan.

There was a stunned silence, both inside and outside the common room.

"You — you did?" said Professor McGonagall. "But — but the password!"

"He had 'em!" said Sir Cadogan proudly. "Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!"

Professor McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait hole to face the stunned crowd. She was white as chalk.

"Which person," she said, her voice shaking, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"

There was utter silence, broken by the smallest of terrified squeaks. Neville Longbottom, trembling from head to fluffy slippered toes, raised his hand slowly into the air.

* * *

No one in Gryffindor Tower slept that night. Everyone knew that the castle was being searched again, and the whole House stayed awake in the common room, waiting to hear whether Black had been caught. Professor McGonagall came back at dawn, to tell everyone that he had again escaped.

I had been mentally debating all night, on whether I should tell anyone what happened in the common room before.

I mean, _he_ called me 'Heather'.

Eventually, I realised this would just mean that I would be shadowed everywhere, so I kept quiet.

And I couldn't tell Harry, Hermione or Ron anyway.

Besides, I knew what they're reactions would be.

Ron would totally freak out, Hermione would order me to tell a teacher, and Harry, well, Harry would make it his personal mission to keep me safe.

No, thank you.

Throughout the day, everywhere we went we saw signs of tighter security; Professor Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognize a large picture of Sirius Black; Filch was suddenly bustling up and down the corridors, boarding up everything from tiny cracks in the walls to mouse holes. Sir Cadogan had been fired. His portrait had been taken back to its lonely landing on the seventh floor, and the Fat Lady was back. Thank god for that. She had been expertly restored, but was still extremely nervous, and had agreed to return to her job only on condition that she was given extra protection. A bunch of surly security trolls had been hired to guard her. They paced the corridor in a menacing group, talking in grunts and comparing the size of their clubs.

I also noticed that the statue of the one-eyed witch remained unguarded, which I was grateful for. It was mine and Harry's way into Hogsmeade.

"D'you reckon we should tell someone?" Harry asked Ron.

"We know he's not coming in through Honeyduke's," said Ron dismissively. "We'd've heard if the shop had been broken into."

Well, this is true.

Ron had become an instant celebrity. For the first time in his life, people were paying more attention to him than to Harry, and it was clear that Ron was rather enjoying the experience. Though still severely shaken by the night's events, he was happy to tell anyone who asked what had happened, with a wealth of detail.

"… I was asleep, and I heard this ripping noise, and I thought it was in my dream, you know? But then there was this draft… I woke up and one side of the hangings on my bed had been pulled down… I rolled over… and I saw him standing over me… like a skeleton, with loads of filthy hair… holding this great long knife, must've been twelve inches… and he looked at me, and I looked at him, and then I yelled, and he scampered.

"Why, though?" Ron added to Harry and I as the group of second year girls who had been listening to his chilling tale departed. "Why did he run?"

I thought about this.

Surely someone who had no worries about murdering twelve innocent people with one curse wouldn't have a guilty conscience about killing five, sleeping, unarmed boys?

But hey, who am I to delve into the psyche of a deranged psychopath?

Oh, right. He's my Dad.

Is insanity hereditary?

"He must've known he'd have a job getting back out of the castle once you'd yelled and woken people up," said Harry thoughtfully. "He'd've had to kill the whole house to get back through the portrait hole… then he would've met the teachers…"

Oh. Yeah.

The Teachers.

And McGonagall scares me on a good day.

* * *

Poor Neville was in total disgrace.

Professor McGonagall was so furious with him she had banned him from all future Hogsmeade visits, given him a detention, and forbidden anyone to give him the password into the tower. Poor Neville was forced to wait outside the common room every night for somebody to let him in, while the security trolls leered unpleasantly at him. None of these punishments, however, came close to matching the one his grandmother had in store for him. Two days after Black's break-in, she sent Neville the very worst thing a Hogwarts student could receive over breakfast — a Howler.

I'd heard about these.

Scarlet letters, that screamed at people.

The school owls swooped into the Great Hall carrying the mail as usual, and Neville choked as a huge barn owl landed in front of him, a scarlet envelope clutched in its beak.

"Run for it, Neville," Ron advised.

Neville didn't need telling twice. He seized the envelope, and holding it before him like a bomb, sprinted out of the hall, while the Slytherin table exploded with laughter at the sight of him. They heard the Howler go off in the entrance hall — Neville's grandmother's voice, magically magnified to a hundred times its usual volume, shrieking about how he had brought shame on the whole family.

In all the commotion, Harry didn't notice that Hedwig had a letter for him. Hedwig got his attention by nipping him sharply on the wrist.

"Ouch! Oh — thanks, Hedwig."

Harry tore open the envelope while Hedwig helped herself to some of Neville's cornflakes. The note inside said:

**Dear Harry and Ron,**

**How about having tea with me this afternoon 'round six? I'll come collect you from the castle. WAIT FOR ME IN THE ENTRANCE HALL; YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED OUT ON YOUR OWN.**

**Cheers,**

**Hagrid**

"He probably wants to hear all about Black!" said Ron.

"Well, I'm not invited," I said, making a faux-sad expression. "Don't I feel left out?"

Harry whacked me on the arm.

"Ow!" I said as I rubbed my arm. "And I call you me best mate?"

Harry just rolled his eyes, completely used to my attitude.

So he should be. He's known me since I was six.

And I have yet to mature.

**End of Chapter 22'**

_**A/N: And don't forget to review, it makes Navi feel loved and keep interest in her story.**_

_**And i mean Navi as me, not my character ... never mind.**_

_**REVIEW!**_

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	23. Chapter 23: Hermione's My Hero

**Disclaimer: Navi belongs to me. Nothing else does. Although I do have a Black Lab called Padfoot … but that's the point.**

**Chapter 23: Hermione's my Hero.**

Just before the boys returned to the common room that evening, there was a sign put up, stating that there would be a Hogsmeade trip that weekend.

Which caused me to have a foul mood, due to the fact that Hermione made me promise not to go.

I was sitting with Hermione, helping her out with her Muggle Studies when the boys finally came back.

"Hogsmeade, next weekend!" said Ron, craning over the heads to read the new notice. "What d'you reckon?" he added quietly to Harry as they went to sit down.

"Well, Filch hasn't done anything about the passage into Honeydukes…" Harry said, even more quietly, but Hermione and I heard him.

"Harry!"

Harry started and looked around at Hermione, who cleared a space in the wall of books that had been hiding the two of us.

"Harry, if you go into Hogsmeade again… I'll tell Professor McGonagall about that map!" said Hermione.

She'd better not.

"Can you hear someone talking, Harry?" growled Ron, not looking at Hermione.

"Ron, how can you let him go with you? After what Sirius Black nearly did to you! I mean it, I'll tell —"

"So now you're trying to get Harry expelled!" said Ron furiously. "Haven't you done enough damage this year?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but with a soft hiss, Crookshanks leapt onto her lap. Hermione took one frightened look at the expression on Ron's face, gathered up Crookshanks, and hurried away toward the girls' dormitories.

"So how about it?" Ron said to Harry and me as though there had been no interruption. "Come on, last time we went you two didn't see anything. You haven't even been inside Zonko's yet!"

Harry looked around, probably to check that Hermione was well out of earshot.

"Okay," he said. "But I'm taking the Invisibility Cloak this time. You coming Naves?"

I shook my head sourly. "Can't, Promised 'Mione I wouldn't. Besides, you need an alibi if you get caught."

He grimaced, but nodded.

This weekend would suck.

I made my way up the girls' dorm, where I was greeted by a suspicious Hermione, but I didn't give Harry's plans away. I was still annoyed at having to stay behind.

On Saturday morning, I sat next to Hermione at breakfast, who kept shooting suspicious looks down the table at Harry, but he avoided her eye and was careful to let her see him walking back up the marble staircase in the entrance hall as everybody else proceeded to the front doors.

"Bye!" Harry called to Ron. "See you when you get back!"

Ron grinned and winked, I withheld a smirk, and wandered around the castle for a bit.

I only got lost twice.

And ended up finding myself in the library, reading _Quidditch Through The Ages._

– **occurred some time in the eighteenth century. Australia may be said to be an ideal Quidditch-playing territory, given the expanses of uninhabited outback where Quidditch pitches may be established.**

**Antipodean teams have always thrilled European crowds with their speed and showmanship. Among the best are the **_**Moutohora Macaws **_**(New Zealand), with their famous red, yellow and blue robes and their phoenix mascot Sparky. The **_**Thundelarra Thunderers **_**and the **_**Woollongong Warriors **_**have dominated the Australian League for the best part of a century. Their enmity is legendary among the Australian magical community, so much so that –**

Bored, I stopped reading and went to head back to Gryffindor Tower, but met up with Ron and Harry along the way.

* * *

"YOU LOST THE MAP?"

I was livid.

Not only did Harry get caught by Malfoy, but Lupin now has the map.

"It's my fault," said Ron abruptly. "I persuaded you to go. Lupin's right, it was stupid, we shouldn't've done it —"

He broke off; they reached the corridor where the security trolls were pacing, and Hermione was walking toward them. One look at her face and I thought that she had heard what had happened.

"Come to have a good gloat?" said Ron savagely as she stopped in front of them. "Or have you just been to tell on us?"

"No," said Hermione. She was holding a letter in her hands and her lip was trembling. "I just thought you ought to know… Hagrid lost his case. Buckbeak is going to be executed."

"He sent me this," Hermione said, holding out the letter.

Harry took it. The parchment was damp, and enormous teardrops had smudged the ink so badly in places that it was very difficult to read.

**Dear Hermione,**

**We lost. I'm allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts. Execution date to be fixed. Beaky has enjoyed London.**

**I won't forget all the help you gave us.**

**Hagrid**

"They can't do this," said Harry. "They can't. Buckbeak isn't dangerous."

"Malfoy's dad's frightened the Committee into it," said Hermione, wiping her eyes. "You know what he's like. They're a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There'll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can't see any hope… Nothing will have changed."

"Yeah, it will," said Ron fiercely. "You won't have to do all the work alone this time, Hermione. I'll help."

"Oh, Ron!"

Hermione flung her arms around Ron's neck and broke down completely.

Ron, looking quite terrified, patted her very awkwardly on the top of the head. Finally, Hermione drew away.

"Ron, I'm really, really sorry about Scabbers…" she sobbed.

"Oh — well — he was old," said Ron, looking thoroughly relieved that she had let go of him.

"And he was a bit useless. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now."

Well, there's one way to look at it.

The safety measures imposed on the students since dear old daddy's second break-in made it impossible for the four of us to go and visit Hagrid in the evenings. Our only chance of talking to him was during Care of Magical Creatures lessons.

He seemed numb with shock at the verdict.

"S'all my fault. Got all tongue-tied. They was all sittin' there in black robes an' I kep' droppin' me notes and forgettin' all them dates yeh looked up fer me, Hermione. An' then Lucius Malfoy stood up an' said his bit, and the Committee jus' did exac'ly what he told 'em…"

"There's still the appeal!" said Ron fiercely. "Don't give up yet, we're working on it!"

They were walking back up to the castle with the rest of the class. Ahead they could see Malfoy, who was walking with Crabbe and Goyle, and kept looking back, laughing derisively.

"S'no good, Ron," said Hagrid sadly as they reached the castle steps. "That Committee's in Lucius Malfoy's pocket. I'm jus' gonna make sure the rest o' Beaky's time is the happiest he's ever had. I owe him that…"

Hagrid turned around and hurried back toward his cabin, his face buried in his handkerchief.

"Look at him blubber!"

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been standing just inside the castle doors, listening.

"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"

I furiously made my towards Malfoy, perfectly prepared to punch him in the face, but Hermione got there first — SMACK!

She had slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster. Malfoy staggered. Harry, Ron, me, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again.

"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul — you evil —"

"Hermione!" said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back.

"Get off, Ron!"

Hermione pulled out her wand. Malfoy stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.

"C'mon." Malfoy muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons.

"Hermione!" Ron said again, sounding both stunned and impressed.

"Harry, you'd better beat him in the Quidditch final!" Hermione said shrilly. "You just better had, because I can't stand it if Slytherin wins!"

Who was this girl? And where did Hermione go?

"We're due in Charms," said Ron, still goggling at Hermione. "We'd better go."

They hurried up the marble staircase toward Professor Flitwick's classroom.

"You're late, boys!" said Professor Flitwick reprovingly as Harry opened the classroom door.

What am I? Chopped liver?

"Come along, quickly, wands out, we're experimenting with Cheering Charms today, we've already divided into pairs —"

Harry and Ron hurried to a desk at the back, me beside them and we opened ur bags. Ron looked behind him.

"Where's Hermione gone?"

Harry and I looked around too. Hermione hadn't entered the classroom, yet Hwearry knew she had been right next to us when he had opened the door.

Oh, dear.

"That's weird," said Harry, staring at Ron. "Maybe — maybe she went to the bathroom or something?"

But Hermione didn't turn up all lesson.

She must've forgotten.

And I can't blame her in the slightest.

"She could've done with a Cheering Charm on her too," said Ron as the class left for lunch, all of us were grinning broadly — the Cheering Charms had left everyone with a feeling of great contentment.

Hermione wasn't at lunch either. By the time we had finished the apple pie, the after-effects of the Cheering Charms were wearing off, and we all had started to get slightly worried.

"You don't think Malfoy did something to her?" Ron said anxiously as we hurried upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower.

I doubted it.

We passed the security trolls, gave the Fat Lady the password ("Flibbertigibbet"), and scrambled through the portrait hole into the common room.

Hermione was sitting at a table, fast asleep, her head resting on an open Arithmancy book. We went to sit down beside of her. Harry prodded her awake.

Poor thing. She's been so stressed lately.

"Wh — what?" said Hermione, waking with a start and staring wildly around. "Is it time to go? W — which lesson have we got now?"

"Divination, but it's not for another twenty minutes," said Harry. "Hermione, why didn't you come to Charms?"

"What? Oh no!" Hermione squeaked. "I forgot to go to Charms!"

"But how could you forget?" said Harry. "You were with us till we were right outside the classroom!"

"I don't believe it!" Hermione wailed. "Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Malfoy, I was thinking about him and I lost track of things!"

"You know what, Hermione?" said Ron, looking down at the enormous Arithmancy book Hermione had been using as a pillow. "I reckon you're cracking up. You're trying to do too much."

I agree.

"No, I'm not!" said Hermione, brushing her hair out of her eyes and staring hopelessly around for her bag.

Yes, you are.

"I just made a mistake, that's all! I'd better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry… I'll see you in Divination!"

Hermione joined us at the foot of the ladder to Professor Trelawney's classroom twenty minutes later, looking extremely harassed.

"I can't believe I missed Cheering Charms! And I bet they come up in our exams; Professor Flitwick hinted they might!"

Together we climbed the ladder into the dim, stifling tower room. Glowing on every little table was a crystal ball full of pearly white mist. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I sat down together at the same rickety table.

"I thought we weren't starting crystal balls until next term," Ron muttered, casting a wary eye around for Professor Trelawney, in case she was lurking nearby.

"Don't complain, this means we've finished palmistry," Harry muttered back. "I was getting sick of her flinching every time she looked at my hands."

I grumbled in agreement.

She keeps telling Harry he's going to die.

And tells me that I have commitment issues.

To be frank, I don't know which is worse.

"Good day to you!" said the familiar, misty voice, and Professor Trelawney made her usual dramatic entrance out of the shadows. Parvati and Lavender quivered with excitement, their faces lit by the milky glow of their crystal ball.

"I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned," said Professor Trelawney, sitting with her back to the fire and gazing around. "The fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."

Hermione snorted.

"Well, honestly… 'the fates have informed her'. Who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!" she said, not troubling to keep her voice low. Harry, Ron and I choked back laughs.

It was hard to tell whether Professor Trelawney had heard us as her face was hidden in shadow. She continued, however, as though she had not.

"Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art," she said dreamily. "I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practising relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes —" Ron began to snigger uncontrollably and had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle the noise — "so as to clear the Inner Eye and the subconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will see before the end of the class."

And so we began. Ron kept breaking into silent giggles, Hermione kept tutting and I sighed every thirty seconds or so.

I think we were annoying Harry, who actually looked like he was trying.

"Seen anything yet?" Harry asked them after a quarter of an hour's quiet crystal gazing.

"Yeah, there's a burn on this table," said Ron, pointing. "Someone's spilled their candle."

"_Seven days_," I whispered, causing Harry to snort.

"This is such a waste of time," Hermione hissed. "I could be practicing something useful. I could be catching up on Cheering Charms —"

Professor Trelawney rustled past.

"Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?" she murmured over the clinking of her bangles.

"I don't need help," Ron whispered. "It's obvious what this means. There's going to be loads of fog tonight."

Me, Harry and Hermione burst out laughing.

"Now, really!" said Professor Trelawney as everyone's heads turned in their direction. Parvati and Lavender were looking scandalized. "You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!" She approached our table and peered into the crystal ball.

Here we go again …

"There is something here!" Professor Trelawney whispered, lowering her face to the ball, so that it was reflected twice in her huge glasses. "Something moving… but what is it?"

Harry was prepared to bet everything he owned, including his Firebolt, that it wasn't good news, whatever it was. And sure enough —

"My dear," Professor Trelawney breathed, gazing up at Harry. "It is here, plainer than ever before… my dear, stalking toward you, growing ever closer… the Gr —"

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" said Hermione loudly. "Not that ridiculous Grim again!"

I grinned.

This class was going to be fun. My 'Inner Eye' was telling me so.

Professor Trelawney raised her enormous eyes to Hermione's face. Parvati whispered something to Lavender, and they both glared at Hermione too. Professor Trelawney stood up, surveying Hermione with unmistakable anger.

"I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class my dear, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane."

There was a moment's silence. Then —

"Fine!" said Hermione suddenly, getting up and cramming Unfogging the Future back into her bag. "Fine!" she repeated, swinging the bag over her shoulder and almost knocking Ron off his chair. "I give up! I'm leaving!"

And to the whole class's amazement, Hermione strode over to the trapdoor, kicked it open, and climbed down the ladder out of sight.

I felt like cheering. Go Hermione!

My new hero.

Uhh … heroine, would be the politically correct term I guess.

Never mind.

It took a few minutes for the class to settle down again. Professor Trelawney seemed to have forgotten all about the Grim. She turned abruptly from Harry and Ron's table, breathing rather heavily as she tugged her gauzy shawl more closely to her.

"Ooooo!" said Lavender suddenly, making everyone start. "Ooooo, Professor Trelawney, I've just remembered! You saw her leaving, didn't you? Didn't you, Professor? 'Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever!' You said it ages ago, Professor!"

Wow. That's actually true.

Creepy. But coincidental.

Professor Trelawney gave her a dewy smile.

"Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Miss Granger would be leaving us. One hopes, however, that one might have mistaken the Signs… The Inner Eye can be a burden, you know…"

Lavender and Parvati looked deeply impressed, and moved over so that Professor Trelawney could join their table instead.

"Some day Hermione's having, eh?" Ron muttered to Harry, looking awed.

"Yeah…"

Harry gazed into the crystal ball, and I put my chin on my hand, which were on the table and did the same.

I saw a flash of something through the fog.

It then became clearer.

A butterfly.

Cool.

**End of Chapter 23.**

**A/N: Review!**


	24. Chapter 24: The Quidditch Final

**Chapter 24: The Quidditch Final**

The Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing. We all had a ton of homework to do. Neville Longbottom seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn't the only one.

"Call this a holiday!" Seamus Finnigan roared at the common room one afternoon. "The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?"

But nobody had as much to do as Hermione. Even without Divination, she was taking more subjects than anybody else. She was usually last to leave the common room at night, first to arrive at the library the next morning; she had shadows like Lupin's under her eyes, and seemed constantly close to tears. I helped her as much as I could, but I could barely understand half of the stuff she was trying to do.

Ron meanwhile, had taken over responsibility for Buckbeak's appeal.

When he wasn't doing his own work, he was poring over enormously thick volumes with names like The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology and Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality. He was so absorbed, he even forgot to be horrible to Crookshanks.

Harry, the poor dear, had to fit in his homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Wood. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays. Slytherin was leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Wood constantly reminded his team, and any other Gryffindor within earshot) that they needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Harry, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.

The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley (Ron's second oldest brother) had been Seeker. The enmity between Harry and Malfoy was at its highest point ever. Malfoy was still smarting about the mud-throwing incident in Hogsmeade that I'd missed and Malfoy was even more furious that Harry had somehow wormed his way out of punishment.

Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their Houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.

And I even got into a small duel with Pansy Parkinson.

She learnt the hard way that I had good reflexes.

I gave her horns.

Take that!

But Harry was having a particularly bad time of it. He couldn't walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip him up; Crabbe and Goyle kept popping up wherever he went, and slouching away looking disappointed when they saw him surrounded by people. Wood had given instructions that Harry should be accompanied everywhere he went, in case the Slytherins tried to put him out of action. The whole of Gryffindor House took up the challenge enthusiastically, so that it was impossible for Harry to get to classes on time because he was surrounded by a vast, chattering crowd. Harry was more concerned for his Firebolt's safety than his own. When he wasn't flying it, he locked it securely in his trunk and frequently dashed back up to Gryffindor Tower at break times to check that it was still there.

All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match. Even Hermione had put down her books.

"I can't work, I can't concentrate," she said nervously.

There was a great deal of noise. Fred and George Weasley were dealing with the pressure by being louder and more exuberant than ever. Oliver Wood was crouched over a model of a Quidditch field in the corner, prodding little figures across it with his wand and muttering to himself Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were laughing at Fred's and George's jokes. Harry was sitting with Ron, Hermione, and I, removed from the centre of things.

"You're going to be fine," Hermione told him, though she looked positively terrified.

"You've got a Firebolt!" said Ron.

"Yeah…" said Harry.

"Malfoy doesn't stand a chance," I said confidently.

It seemed to come as a relief when Wood suddenly stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!"

I don't think anyone got much sleep last night.

Lavender and Pavarti were chatting about the match all throughout the night, I must've thrown my pillow at them at least a dozen times.

* * *

The Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall the next day to enormous applause. Harry grinned broadly when he saw that both the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were applauding them too. The Slytherin table hissed loudly as they passed. And Malfoy looked even paler than usual.

Wood spent the whole of breakfast urging his team to eat, while touching nothing himself. Then he hurried them off to the field before anyone else had finished, so they could get an idea of the conditions. As they left the Great Hall, everyone applauded again.

"Good luck, Harry!" called Cho.

I saw a bit of red creep onto my best mate's cheeks.

Aw. Someone's got a crush.

I also, along with Hermione's help, made a banner for the game.

It flashed red and gold and had the words 'Giving it all for the red and gold!'

The Gryffindor team walked out onto the field to a tidal wave of noise. With three quarters of the school barracking for them, most of the crowd was a sea of red and gold. Behind the Slytherin goal posts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Professor Snape sat in the very front row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as commentator as usual. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years —"

Lee's comments were drowned by a tide of 'boos' from the Slytherin end.

"And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He's made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill —"

More boos from the Slytherin crowd. However, Lee had a point. Malfoy was easily the smallest person On the Slytherin team; the rest of them were enormous.

"Captains, shake hands!" said Madam Hooch.

Flint and Wood approached each other and grasped each other's hand very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other's fingers.

"Mount your brooms!" said Madam Hooch. "Three… two… one…"

The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no — Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing UP the field — WHAM! — nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by — Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina — nice swerve around Montague — duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger! – SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet around me was screaming its delight

"OUCH!"

Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her.

"Sorry!" said Flint as the crowd booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!"

A moment later, Fred Weasley chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.

"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between then. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"

"Come off it, Miss!" howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty.

"Come on, Alicia!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Flint, still bleeding freely, flew forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Wood was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goal posts, his jaw clenched.

"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan told the crowd as Flint waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass — very difficult indeed — YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"

I was watching Harry anxiously. It was essential that he hold Malfoy off the Snitch until Gryffindor was more than fifty points up —

"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession — no! Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field — THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"

Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Katie, and instead of seizing the Quaffle had grabbed her head. Katie cart-wheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom, but dropped the Quaffle.

Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, Katie had put another penalty past the Slytherin Seeker.

"THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING —"

"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way —"

"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"

Harry then pulled his Firebolt around and sped off toward the Slytherin end. Malfoy went haring after him, clearly thinking Harry had seen the Snitch there…

WHOOSH.

One of the Bludgers came streaking past Harry's right ear, hit by the gigantic Slytherin Beater, Derrick. Then again…

WHOOSH.

The second Bludger grazed Harry's elbow. The other Beater, Bole, was closing in.

Bole and Derrick were then zooming toward him, clubs raised — He turned the Firebolt upward at the last second, and Bole and Derrick collided with a sickening crunch.

"Ha haaa!" yelled Lee Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle — Flint alongside her — poke him in the eye, Angelina! — it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke — oh no — Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save —!"

But Flint had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.

"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession —"

It was turning into the dirtiest game I had ever seen. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Alicia with his club and tried to say he'd thought she was a Bludger. George Weasley elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Wood pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.

Malfoy was still keeping close to Harry as he soared over the match, looking around for the snitch once Gryffindor was fifty points ahead —

Katie scored.

Fifty-ten. Fred and George Weasley were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred's and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at Wood; they caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, completely winded.

Madam Hooch was beside herself —

"YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!" she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. "Gryffindor penalty!"

And Angelina scored. Sixty-ten.

Moments later, Fred Weasley pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Alicia seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal — seventy-ten.

The Gryffindor crowd below was screaming itself hoarse — Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup was ours. Harry soared around the field, high above the rest of the game, with Malfoy speeding along behind him.

And then he saw it. The Snitch was sparkling twenty feet above him.

Harry put on a huge burst of speed; the wind was roaring in his ears; he stretched out his hand, but suddenly, Malfoy had thrown himself forward, grabbed hold of the Firebolt's tail, and was pulling it back.

He had achieved what he'd wanted to do — the Snitch had disappeared again.

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics." Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Malfoy was sliding back onto his Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B —"

Professor McGonagall didn't even bother to tell him off. She was actually shaking her finger in Malfoy's direction, her hat had fallen off, and she too was shouting furiously.

Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Malfoy's foul on Harry, were being spurred on to greater heights.

"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal — Montague scores —" Lee groaned. "Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor…"

Harry was now marking Malfoy so closely their knees kept hitting each other.

"Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina, COME ON!"

Every single Slytherin player apart from Malfoy was streaking up the pitch toward Angelina, including the Slytherin Keeper — they were all going to block her — Harry wheeled the Firebolt around, bent so low he was lying flat along the handle, and kicked it forward. Like a bullet, he shot toward the Slytherins.

"AAAAAAARRRGH!"

They scattered as the Firebolt zoomed toward them; Angelina's way was clear.

"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty Points to twenty!"

Harry, who had almost pelted headlong into the stands, skidded to a halt in midair, reversed, and zoomed back into the middle of the field.

Malfoy was diving, a look of triumph on his face — there, a few feet above the grass below, was a tiny, golden glimmer —

Harry urged the Firebolt downward, but Malfoy was miles ahead —

Harry was gaining on Malfoy — Harry flattened himself to the broom handle as Bole sent a Bludger at him — he was at Malfoy's ankles — he was level —

Harry threw himself forward, took both hands off his broom. He knocked Malfoy's arm out of the way and —

He pulled out of his dive, his hand in the air, and the stadium exploded. Harry soared above the crowd. The tiny golden ball was held tight in his fist.

I was hugging one of the Ravenclaw boys in my year that I didn't know, while jumping up and down, tears of happiness streaming down my face.

The Quidditch cup was ours.

Harry had done it.

Then Wood was speeding toward Harry, he seized him around the neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into his shoulder. Fred and George then hit them; then Angelina, Alicia, and Katie, tangled together in a many-armed hug, the Gryffindor team sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth.

We all ran onto the pitch towards the team and Harry. Then he, and the rest of the team, were hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd. Hagrid was there, plastered with crimson rosettes — "Yeh beat 'em, Harry, yeh beat 'em! Wait till I tell Buckbeak!"

There was Percy, jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten. Professor McGonagall was sobbing harder even than Wood, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag; and there, fighting our way toward Harry, were Ron, Hermione and myself. We simply beamed as Harry was borne toward the stands, where Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.

**End of Chapter 24.**

**WOOH! GO GRYFFINDOR!**

**Don't forget to leave a review.**

**And i hate the weather. Yesterday was over 40 DEGREES! That's over 100 in Fahrenheit for you Americans.**

**... Australia sucks.**

**Oh, and i found a red-back yesterday.**

**It was hiding in the barbeque.**

**Just thought i'd share ...**

**REVIEW! **


	25. Chapter 25: Exams

**Chapter 25: Exams.**

Everyone's euphoria at finally winning the Quidditch Cup lasted at least a week. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating; as June approached, the days became cloudless and sultry, and all anybody felt like doing was strolling onto the grounds and flopping down on the grass with several pints of iced pumpkin juice (or orange juice for me, I still hadn't tried the pumpkin juice), perhaps playing a casual game of Gobstones or watching the giant squid propel itself dreamily across the surface of the lake.

But we couldn't. Exams were nearly upon us, and instead of lazing around outside, we were forced to remain inside the castle, trying to bully our brains into concentrating while enticing wafts of summer air drifted in through the windows. Even Fred and George Weasley had been spotted working; they were about to take their O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Levels). Percy was getting ready to take his N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), the highest qualification Hogwarts offered. As Percy hoped to enter the Ministry of Magic, he needed top grades. He was becoming increasingly edgy, and gave very severe punishments to anybody who disturbed the quiet of the common room in the evenings. In fact, the only person who seemed more anxious than Percy was Hermione.

I helped her as much as I could, while juggling my own work, and there was her exam timetable.

The first column read:

Monday

9 o'clock, Arithmancy

9 o'clock, Transfiguration

Lunch

1 o'clock, Charms

1 o'clock, Ancient Runes

"Hermione?" Ron said cautiously, because she was liable to explode when interrupted these days.

"Er — are you sure you've copied down these times right?"

"What?" snapped Hermione, picking up the exam schedule and examining it. "Yes, of course I have."

"Is there any point asking how you're going to sit for two exams at once?" said Harry.

"No," said Hermione shortly. "Have any of you seen my copy of Numerology and Gramatica?"

"Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading," said Ron, but very quietly.

Hermione started shifting heaps of parchment

* * *

. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I had plenty of opportunity to speak to Hagrid.

"Beaky's gettin' a bit depressed," Hagrid told us, bending low on the pretense of checking that Harry's flobberworm was still alive. "Bin cooped up too long. But still… we'll know day after tomorrow — one way or the other —"

We had Potions that afternoon, which I did surprisingly well in. But Harry couldn't seem to get his Confusing Concoction to thicken.

Then came Astronomy at midnight, up on the tallest tower; History of Magic on Wednesday morning, in which I scribbled everything Florean Fortescue had told Harry and I about medieval witch-hunts during last summer, while wishing I could have had one of Fortescue's choconut sundaes with me in the stifling classroom. Wednesday afternoon meant Herbology, in the greenhouses under a baking-hot sun; then back to the common room once more, with a sunburnt neck, thinking longingly of this time next day, when it would all be over.

Our second to last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin had compiled the most unusual exam any of us had taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where we had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a Grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish our way across a patch of marsh while ignoring misleading directions from a Hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new Boggart.

I did great, except the fact that a grindylow gave me a gash on my arm.

Being one of the first, I waited for the others.

"Excellent, Harry," Lupin muttered as Harry climbed out of the trunk, grinning. "Full marks."

Harry then hung around with me to watch Ron and Hermione. Ron did very well until he reached the Hinkypunk, which successfully confused him into sinking waist-high into the quagmire. Hermione did everything perfectly until she reached the trunk with the Boggart in it. After about a minute inside it, she burst out again, screaming.

"Hermione!" said Lupin, startled. "What's the matter?"

"P-P-Professor McGonagall!" Hermione gasped, pointing into the trunk. "Sh-she said I'd failed everything!"

It took a little while to calm Hermione down. When at last she had regained a grip on herself, she, Harry, Ron and I went back to the castle. Ron was still slightly inclined to laugh at Hermione's Boggart, but an argument was averted by the sight that met them on the top of the steps.

Cornelius Fudge, sweating slightly in his pinstriped cloak, was standing there staring out at the grounds. He started at the sight of Harry.

"Hello there, Harry!" he said. "Just had an exam, I expect? Nearly finished?"

"Yes," said Harry, me standing beside him. Hermione and Ron, not being on speaking terms with the Minister of Magic, hovered awkwardly in the background.

"Lovely day," said Fudge, casting an eye over the lake. "Pity… pity…"

He sighed deeply and looked down at Harry.

"I'm here on an unpleasant mission, Harry. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures required a witness to the execution of a mad Hippogriff. As I needed to visit Hogwarts to check on the Black situation, I was asked to step in."

"Does that mean the appeal's already happened?" Ron interrupted, stepping forward.

"No, no, it's scheduled for this afternoon," said Fudge, looking curiously at Ron.

"Then you might not have to witness an execution at all!" said Ron stoutly. "The Hippogriff might get off!"

Before Fudge could answer, two wizards came through the castle doors behind him. One was so ancient he appeared to be withering before their very eyes; the other was tall and strapping, with a thin back mustache. I gathered that they were representatives of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, because the very old wizard squinted toward Hagrid's cabin and said in a feeble voice, "Dear, dear, I'm getting too old for this… Two o'clock, isn't it, Fudge?"

The black-mustached man was fingering something in his belt; he was running one broad thumb along the blade of a shining axe. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs and jerked her head toward the entrance hall.

"Why'd you stop me?" said Ron angrily as they entered the Great Hall for lunch. "Did you see them? They've even got the axe ready! This isn't justice!"

"Ron, your dad works for the Ministry, you can't go saying things like that to his boss!" said Hermione, but she too looked very upset. "As long as Hagrid keeps his head this time, and argues his case properly, they can't possibly execute Buckbeak…"

But we could tell Hermione didn't really believe what she was saying. All around them, people were talking excitedly as they ate their lunch, happily anticipating the end of the exams that afternoon, but we, lost in worry about Hagrid and Buckbeak, didn't join in.

Harry's, Ron's, and my last exam was Divination; Hermione's, Muggle Studies. We walked up the marble staircase together; Hermione left them on the first floor and Harry, Ron and I proceeded all the way up to the seventh, where many of their class were sitting on the spiral staircase to Professor Trelawney's classroom, trying to cram in a bit of last-minute studying.

"She's seeing us all separately," Neville informed them as they went to sit down next to him. He had his copy of Unfogging the Future open on his lap at the pages devoted to crystal gazing. "Have either of you ever seen anything in a crystal ball?" he asked them unhappily.

"Nope," said Ron in an offhand voice. He kept checking his watch; Harry and I knew that he was counting down the time until Buckbeak's appeal started.

The line of people outside the classroom shortened very slowly. As each person climbed back down the silver ladder, the rest of the class hissed, "What did she ask? Was it okay?"

But they all refused to say.

"She says the crystal ball's told her that if I tell you, I'll have a horrible accident!" squeaked Neville as he clambered back down the ladder toward Harry, Ron, and I, after we'd reached the landing.

"That's convenient," snorted Ron. "You know, I'm starting to think Hermione was right about her" — he jabbed his thumb toward the trapdoor overhead — "she's a right old fraud."

"Yeah," said Harry, looking at his own watch. It was now two o'clock. "Wish she'd hurry up…"

Parvati came back down the ladder glowing with pride.

"She says I've got all the makings of a true Seer," she informedus. "I saw loads of stuff… Well, good luck!"

She hurried off down the spiral staircase toward Lavender.

"Ronald Weasley," said the familiar, misty voice from over their heads. Ron grimaced at Harry and climbed the silver ladder out of sight. Harry was now the only person left to be tested. He settled himself on the floor with his back against the wall, listening to a fly buzzing in the sunny window, his mind across the grounds with Hagrid.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, Ron's large feet reappeared on the ladder.

"How'd it go?" Harry asked him, standing up.

"Rubbish," said Ron. "Couldn't see a thing, so I made some stuff up. Don't think she was convinced, though…"

"Meet you in the common room," Harry muttered as Professor Trelawney's voice called, "Harry Potter!"

A while later, Harry came climbing don, looking pretty confused about something, but as I was about to ask him, a misty voice called my name.

And the old bag was lucky that I was the last one.

"Naveya Black."

If it wasn't just me and Harry, I'd be screwed right now.

You'd think that with her 'Inner Eye' she'd 'see' that she shouldn't do that.

The tower room was hotter than ever before; the curtains were closed, the fire was alight, and the usual sickly scent made me cough as I stumbled through the clutter of chairs and table to where Professor Trelawney sat waiting for me before a large crystal ball.

I was pretty angry at her, so all the things I 'saw' were fairly violent.

She seemed pleased.

I wasn't.

I made my way back to the common room, grumbling the whole time, only to find my favourite three people all looking rather grim about something.

Oh, no.

"Buckbeak lost," said Ron weakly. "Hagrid's just sent this."

Hagrid's note was dry this time, no tears had splattered it, yet his hand seemed to have shaken so much as he wrote that it was hardly legible.

**Lost appeal. They're going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don't come down. I don't want you to see it.**

**Hagrid**

**End of Chapter 25.

* * *

**

_**Awww ... poor Buckbeak ... oh, and by the way, for those wondering, for the purposes of my story, the invisibility cloak is slightly bigger than it's supposed to be.**_

_**Thank you to everyone who's review/favourited my story ;) tim tams for you.**_

_**Cheers.**_

_**Navi out.**_


	26. Chapter 26: He Doesn't Deserve This

**Chapter 26: He Doesn't Deserve This.**

"We've got to go," said Harry said to me. "He can't just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!"

"Sunset, though," said Ron, who was staring out the window ill a glazed sort of way. "We'd never be allowed… 'specially you, Harry…you too, Navi …"

Harry sank his head into his hands, and i frowned.

"If we only had the Invisibility Cloak…"

"Where is it?" said Hermione.

Harry told us about leaving it in the passageway under the one-eyed witch.

"… if Snape sees me anywhere near there again, I'm in serious trouble," he finished.

"That's true," said Hermione, getting to her feet. "If he sees you… How do you open the witch's hump again?"

"You — you tap it and say, 'Dissendium,'" said Harry. "But —"

Hermione didn't wait for the rest of his sentence; she strode across the room, pushed open the Fat Lady's portrait and vanished from sight.

"She hasn't gone to get it?" Ron said, staring after her.

"I think she has," i said, staring in the direction she left.

She had. Hermione returned a quarter of an hour later with the silvery cloak folded carefully under her robes.

"Hermione, I don't know what's gotten, into you lately!" said Ron, astounded. "First you hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney —"

Hermione looked rather flattered.

We went down to dinner with everybody else, but did not return to Gryffindor Tower afterward. Harry had the cloak hidden; he had to keep his arms folded to hide the lump in his robes.

I couldn't help but make fun of him, by saying that he was gaining weight.

He glared at me.

* * *

We skulked in an empty chamber off the entrance hall, listening, until we were sure it was deserted. We heard a last pair of people hurrying across the hall and a door slamming. Hermione poked her head around the door.

The map would have come in handy right now, I thought bitterly, casting a small glare in Harry's direction.

I was still sour about him losing it.

"Okay," Hermione whispered, "no one there — cloak on —"

Walking very close together so that nobody would see us, we crossed the hall on tiptoe beneath the cloak, then walked down the stone front steps into the grounds. The sun was already sinking behind the Forbidden Forest, gilding the top branches of the trees.

We reached Hagrid's cabin and knocked. He took a minute in answering, and when he did, he looked all around for his visitor, pale-faced and trembling.

"It's us," Harry hissed. "We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."

"Yeh shouldn've come!" Hagrid whispered, but he stood back, and we stepped inside. Hagrid shut the door quickly and Harry pulled off the cloak.

Hagrid was not crying, nor did he throw himself upon our necks. He looked like a man who did not know where he was or what to do. This helplessness was worse to watch than tears.

"Wan' some tea?" he said. His great hands were shaking as he reached for the kettle.

"Where's Buckbeak, Hagrid?" said Hermione hesitantly.

"I — I took him outside," said Hagrid, spilling milk all over the table as he filled up the jug. "He's tethered in me pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an' — an' smell fresh air — before —"

Hagrid's hand trembled so violently that the milk jug slipped from his grasp and shattered all over the floor.

"I'll do it, Hagrid," said Hermione quickly, hurrying over and starting to clean up the mess.

"There's another one in the cupboard," Hagrid said, sitting down and wiping his forehead on his sleeve. Harry glanced at Ron, who looked back hopelessly.

"Isn't there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?" Harry asked fiercely, sitting down next to him. "Dumbledore —"

"He's tried," said Hagrid. "He's got no power ter overrule the Committee. He told 'em Buckbeak's all right, but they're scared… Yeh know what Lucius Malfoy's like… threatened 'em, I expect… an' the executioner, Macnair, he's an old pal o' Malfoy's… but it'll be quick an' clean… an' I'll be beside him…"

I growled slightly.

Why does Malfoy always have to try and ruin _everything_?

Hagrid swallowed. His eyes were darting all over the cabin as though looking for some shred of hope or comfort.

"Dumbledore's gonna come down while it — while it happens. Wrote me this mornin'. Said he wants ter — ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore…"

Hermione, who had been rummaging in Hagrid's cupboard for another milk jug, let out a small, quickly stifled sob. She straightened up with the new jug in her hands, fighting back tears.

"We'll stay with you too, Hagrid," she began, but Hagrid shook his shaggy head.

"Yeh're ter go back up ter the castle. I told yeh, I don' wan' yeh watchin'. An' yeh shouldn' be down here anyway… If Fudge an' Dumbledore catch yeh out without permission, Harry, yeh'll be in big trouble."

I sniffed, tears filling my eyes.

Hagrid cared too much.

Silent tears were streaming down Hermione's own face, but she hid them from Hagrid, bustling around making tea. Then, as she picked up the milk bottle to pour some into the jug, she let out a shriek.

"Ron, I don't believe it — it's Scabbers!"

Ron gaped at her.

"What are you talking about?"

Hermione carried the milk jug over to the table and turned it upside down. With a frantic squeak, and much scrambling to get back inside, Scabbers the rat came sliding out onto the table.

"Scabbers!" said Ron blankly. "Scabbers, what are you doing here?"

He grabbed the struggling rat and held him up to the light. Scabbers looked dreadful. He was thinner than ever, large tufts of hair had fallen out leaving wide bald patches, and he writhed in Ron's hands as though desperate to free himself.

I gaped at the rat.

So, he was alive all this time?

"It's okay, Scabbers!" said Ron. "No cats! There's nothing here to hurt you!"

Hagrid suddenly stood up, his eyes fixed on the window. His normally reddy face had gone the color of parchment.

"They're comin'…"

We all whipped around. A group of men was walking down the distant castle steps. In front was Albus Dumbledore, his silver beard gleaming in the dying sun. Next to him trotted Cornelius Fudge. Behind them came the feeble old Committee member and the executioner, Macnair.

"Yeh gotta go," said Hagrid. Every inch of him was trembling. "They mustn' find yeh here… Go now…"

Ron stuffed Scabbers into his pocket and Hermione picked up the cloak. "I'll let yeh out the back way," said Hagrid.

We followed him to the door into his back garden. Buckbeak a few yards away, tethered to a tree behind Hagrid's pumpkin patch. Buckbeak seemed to know something was happening. He turned his sharp head from side to side and pawed the ground nervously.

I looked at the Hippogriff sadly.

He didn't deserve this.

"It's okay, Beaky," said Hagrid softly. "It's okay…" He turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Go on," he said. "Get goin'."

But we didn't move.

"Hagrid, we can't —"

"We'll tell them what really happened —"

"They can't kill him —"

"This isn't right -"

"Go!" said Hagrid fiercely. "It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"

We had no choice. As Hermione threw the cloak over Harry, Ron and I, we heard voices at the front of the cabin. Hagrid looked at the place where we had just vanished from sight.

"Go quick," he said hoarsely. "Don' listen…"

And he strode back into his cabin as someone knocked at the front door.

Slowly, in a kind of horrified trance, the four of us set off silently around Hagrid's house. As we reached the other side, the front door closed with a sharp snap.

"Please, let's hurry," Hermione whispered. "I can't stand it, I can't bear it…"

Tears were spilling over my eyes, but I didn't care to wipe them away.

We started up the sloping lawn toward the castle. The sun was sinking fast now; the sky had turned to a clear, purple-tinged gray, but to the west there was a ruby-red glow.

Ron stopped dead.

"Oh, please, Ron," Hermione began.

"It's Scabbers — he won't — stay put —"

Ron was bent over, trying to keep Scabbers in his pocket, but the rat was going berserk; squeaking madly, twisting and flailing, trying to sink his teeth into Ron's hand.

"Scabbers, it's me, you idiot, it's Ron," Ron hissed.

I heard a door open behind us and men's voices.

"Oh, Ron, please let's move, they're going to do it!" Hermione breathed.

"Okay — Scabbers, stay put —"

They walked forward; Harry, like Hermione, was trying not to listen to the rumble of voices behind them. Ron stopped again.

"I can't hold him — Scabbers, shut up, everyone'll hear us —"

The rat was squealing wildly, but not loudly enough to cover up the sounds drifting from Hagrid's garden. There was a jumble of indistinct male voices, a silence, and then, without warning, the unmistakable swish and thud of an axe.

Hermione swayed on the spot, and my knees gave way from under me, and I fell into Harry.

"They did it!" Hermione whispered to Harry. "I'd — don't believe it — they did it!"

**End of Chapter 26.**

_**A/N: Wow ... um ... i never actually thought i'd get this far.**_

_**... Thanks to everyone who reviewed and kept my morale up. :)**_

_**Hopefully the next chappy will up soon.**_

_**The Shack scene WHOO! It seems to be the one everyone's waiting for.**_


	27. Chapter 27: When Ninja Rolling, Always R

**Chapter 27: When Ninja Rolling, Always Remember to Face Your Intended Target.**

The four of us stood transfixed with horror under the Invisibility Cloak. The very last rays of the setting sun were casting a bloody light over the long-shadowed grounds. Then, behind us, I heard a wild howling.

"Hagrid," Harry muttered, and he made to turn back, and I fell over, both Ron and Hermione seized Harry's arms.

"We can't," said Ron, who was paper-white. "He'll be in worse trouble if they know we've been to see him…"

Hermione's breathing was shallow and uneven.

"How — could — they?" she choked. "How could they?"

"Come on," said Ron, whose teeth seemed to be chattering. "Come on, Naves."

I shakingly stood and we set off back toward the castle, walking slowly to keep ourselves hidden under the cloak. The light was fading fast now.

By the time we reached open ground, darkness was settling like a spell around them.

"Scabbers, keep still," Ron hissed, clamping his hand over his chest. The rat was wriggling madly. Ron came to a sudden halt, trying to force Scabbers deeper into his pocket. "What's the matter with you, You stupid rat? Stay still — OUCH! He bit me!"

"Ron, be quiet!" Hermione whispered urgently. "Fudge'll be out here in a minute —"

"He won't — stay — put —"

Scabbers was plainly terrified. He was writhing with all his might, trying to break free of Ron's grip.

"What's the matter with him?"

But I had just seen, along with Harry — stinking toward us, his body low to the ground, wide yellow eyes glinting eerily in the darkness — Crookshanks. Whether he could see us or was following the sound of Scabbers's squeaks, I couldn't tell.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione moaned. "No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!"

But the cat was getting nearer —

"Scabbers — NO!"

Too late — the rat had slipped between Ron's clutching fingers, hit the ground, and scampered away. In one bound, Crookshanks sprang after him, and before Harry, me or Hermione could stop him, Ron had thrown the Invisibility Cloak off himself and pelted away into the darkness.

"Ron!" Hermione moaned.

She, Harry, and I looked at each other, then followed at a sprint; it was impossible to run full out under the cloak; we pulled it off and it streamed behind us like a banner as we hurtled after Ron; we could hear his feet thundering along ahead and his shouts at Crookshanks.

"Get away from him — get away — Scabbers, come here —"

There was a loud thud.

"Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —"

We almost fell over Ron; we skidded to a stop right in front of him. He was sprawled on the ground, but Scabbers was back in his pocket; he had both hands held tight over the quivering lump.

"Ron — come on back under the cloak —" Hermione panted. "Dumbledore — the Minister — they'll be coming back out in a minute —"

But before we could cover ourselves again, before we could even catch their breath, we heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws… Something was bounding toward us, quiet as a shadow — an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog.

The dog made an enormous leap and the front paws hit Harry on the chest; he keeled over backward in a whirl of hair.

But the force of its leap had carried it too far; it rolled off him.

Ron was on his feet. As the dog sprang back toward them he pushed Harry aside; the dog's jaws fastened instead around Ron's outstretched arm. Harry lunged forward, he seized a handful of the brute's hair, but it was dragging Ron away as easily as though he were a rag doll —

I followed them, before a flash caught my eye, and I ducked what appeared to be a tree branch.

I guess all those years of playing 'skippy' with the kids paid off.

Calculating where the tree branches were going to swing, I jumped and side-stepped, hell even rolled, trying to catch up to the dog and Ron.

A light then shone, and at the base of the trunk to the Whomping Willow, was the dog, dragging Ron backward into a large gap in the roots — Ron was fighting furiously, but his head and torso were slipping out of sight —

"Ron!" I heard Harry shout, and I jumped forward, trying to reach Ron's legs, which he had hooked around a root in an effort to stop the dog from pulling him farther underground — but a horrible crack cut the air like a gunshot; Ron's leg had broken, and a moment later, his foot vanished from sight.

I dived through the gap, hearing Harry called my name.

I came into a tunnel, and I frowned, before following Ron's pained sounds, my wand out, my eyes alert.

"Lumos," I muttered, and my wand lit up.

It was a long tunnel.

Like the one to Honeydukes.

And then the tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted and I could see a patch of dim light through a small opening up ahead.

My wand raised, I went through it.

There was a room, a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls; there were stains all over the floor; every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded up.

The room was deserted, but a door to my right stood open, leading to a shadowy hallway.

I then heard a creak overhead. Something had moved upstairs.

As quietly as I could, I crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs.

I reached the dark landing.

"Nox," I whispered, and the light at the end of my wands went out. Only one door was open. As I crept toward it, I heard movement from behind it; a low moan.

Wand held tightly before me, I did the first, stupid thing that came to my mind.

I leapt at the door, doing a ninja roll, before landing in a crouch, and facing Ron.

"Expelliarmus!"

My wand flew out of my hand, and I whipped around to face _him_.

A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. It was Sirius Black.

My eyes were the size of saucers.

This man was my _father_.

He seemed shocked and confused to see me. Tilting his head as if he thought I was a trick of the light.

Then he took a step towards me, and I crawled backwards to Ron, who grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back to him protectively, like a brother would a sister.

Suddenly the door was kicked open and Harry and Hermione dashed across to us.

"Ron — are you okay?"

"Where's the dog?"

"Not a dog," Ron moaned. His teeth were gritted with pain. "Harry, it's a trap —"

"What —"

"He's the dog… he's an Animagus."

Harry wheeled around. With a snap, Black in the shadows closed the door behind them.

"Expelliarmus!" he croaked, pointing Ron's wand at us.

Harry's and Hermione's wands shot out of their hands, high in the air, and Black caught them. Then he took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Harry. As if he still refused to believe I was there.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely.

His voice sounded as though he had long since lost the habit of using it. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful… it will make everything much easier…"

Harry then started forward, but there was a sudden movement on either side of him and two pairs of hands grabbed him and held him back…and they weren't mine.

"No, Harry!" Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper; Ron, however, spoke to Black.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" he said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining him of still more colour, and he swayed slightly as he spoke.

Something flickered in Black's shadowed eyes.

"Lie down," he said quietly to Ron. "You will damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to Harry to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all four of us!"

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said Black, and his grin widened.

"Why's that?" Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free of Ron, and Hermione. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew… What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Harry!" Hermione whimpered. "Be quiet!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, and with a huge effort he broke free of Hermione's and Ron's restraint and lunged forward —

I was frozen, I had no idea what to do.

Perhaps it was the shock of Harry doing something so stupid, but Black didn't raise the wands in time — one of Harry's hands fastened over his wasted wrist, forcing the wand tips away; the knuckles of Harry's other hand collided with the side of Black's head and they fell, backward, into the wall —

Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling, and I had slammed my eyes shut; there was a blinding flash but I didn't open my eyes.

"No," Black hissed, "I've waited too long —"

I opened my eyes slightly to see Black with his hand around my best mate's throat.

The fingers tightened, Harry choked, his glasses askew.

I lunged forward to help Harry. Forgetting about magic completely.

Then Hermione's foot swung out of nowhere. Black let go of Harry with a grunt of pain; Ron had thrown himself on Black's wand hand and there was a faint clatter —

I was trying to get to my wand, but I was tangled in the mess of bodies.

"Argh!"

Crookshanks had joined the fray; both sets of front claws had sunk themselves deep into Harry's arm; Harry threw him off, but Crookshanks now darted toward Harry's wand —

"NO YOU DON'T!" roared Harry, and he aimed a kick at Crookshanks that made the cat leap aside, spitting; Harry snatched up his wand and turned —

"Get out of the way!" he shouted at Ron and Hermione.

I had already scrambled aside, and grabbed my wand.

Hermione, gasping for breath, her lip bleeding, moved aside, snatching up her and Ron's wands. Ron crawled to the four-poster and collapsed onto it, panting, his white face now tinged with green, both hands clutching his broken leg.

Black was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His thin chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched Harry walking slowly nearer, his wand pointing straight at Black's heart.

"Going to kill me, Harry?" he whispered.

Harry stopped right above him, his wand still pointing at Black's chest, looking down at him. A livid bruise was rising around Black's left eye and his nose was bleeding.

"You killed my parents," said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

Black stared up at him out of those sunken eyes.

"I don't deny it," he said very quietly. "But if you knew the whole story."

What?

"The whole story?" Harry repeated. "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."

"You've got to listen to me," Black said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. "You'll regret it if you don't… You don't understand…"

"I understand a lot better than you think," said Harry, and his voice shook more than ever. "You never heard her, did you? My mum… trying to stop Voldemort killing me… and you did that… you did it…"

Before either of them could say another word, something ginger streaked past Harry; Crookshanks leapt onto Black's chest and settled himself there, right over Black's heart. Black blinked and looked down at the cat.

What the hell was that cat doing?

"Get off," Black murmured, trying to push Crookshanks off him.

But Crookshanks sank his claws into Black's robes and wouldn't shift. He turned his ugly, squashed face to Harry and looked up at him with those great yellow eyes. To my right, Hermione gave a dry sob.

Harry grip on the wand tightened and he raised the wand.

But he seemed to freeze.

The seconds lengthened. And still Harry stood frozen there, wand poised, Black staring up at him, Crookshanks on his chest. Ron's ragged breathing came from near the bed; Hermione was quite silent, and I didn't know whether I could move or not.

And then came a new sound —

Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor — someone was moving downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE — SIRIUS BLACK — QUICK!"

Black made a startled movement that almost dislodged Crookshanks, and I thought that Harry was about to kill Black.

But the footsteps were thundering up the stairs and Harry still hadn't done it.

The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around as Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to me, not really sure what to do with myself, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet.

"Expelliarmus!" Lupin shouted.

Harry's wand flew once more out of his hand; so did the two Hermione was holding along with my own. Lupin caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest.

Lupin then spoke, in a very tense voice.

"Where is he, Sirius?"

Huh?

Black's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Ron. Mystified, we all glanced around at Ron, who looked bewildered.

"But then…" Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, "… why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless" — Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see, "— unless he was the one… unless you switched… without telling me?"

Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Black nodded.

"Professor," Harry interrupted loudly, "what's going on —?"

But he never finished the question, because what he saw made his voice die in his throat. Lupin was lowering his wand, his gaze fixed on Black. The Professor walked to Black's side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced Black like a brother.

Confusion and the feeling of betrayal tore through me.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed.

Lupin let go of Black and turned to her. She had raised herself off the floor and was pointing at Lupin, wild-eyed. "You — you —"

"Hermione —"

"– you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down —"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "We've been covering up for you —"

"Hermione, listen to me, please" Lupin shouted. "I can explain —"

Harry was shaking, not with fear, but with fury.

"I trusted you," he shouted at Lupin, his voice wavering, out of control, "and all the time you've been his friend!"

"You're wrong," said Lupin. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now — Let me explain…"

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too — he's a werewolf!"

There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.

"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," he said. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead." An odd shiver passed over his face. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Ron made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made toward him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, "Get away from me, werewolf!"

Hey! That's my godfather!

Instantly, I mentally slapped myself.

He's not on your side, I reminded myself.

Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, "How long have you known?"

"Ages," Hermione whispered. "Navi and I have known since I did Professor Snape's essay…"

Black turned to look at me with wide, and confused eyes.

I avoided his gaze, glaring at my _godfather._

"He'll be delighted," said Lupin coolly. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant… Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the Boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"

"Both," Hermione said quietly.

Lupin forced a laugh.

"You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."

"I'm not," Hermione whispered. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"

"But they already know," said Lupin. "At least, the staff do."

"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf," Ron gasped. "Is he mad?"

"Some of the staff thought so," said Lupin. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy —"

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!"

He was pointing at Black, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it, his face hidden in one shaking hand. Crookshanks leapt up beside him and stepped onto his lap, purring. Ron edged away from both of them, dragging his leg.

"I have not been helping Sirius," said Lupin. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look —"

He separated mine, Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's wands and threw each back to its owner; I caught mine, confused.

"There," said Lupin, sticking his own wand back into his belt "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

Just what the hell was going on here?

"If you haven't been helping him," Harry said, with a furious glance at Black, "how did you know he was here?"

"The map," said Lupin. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it —"

"You know how to work it?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Of course I know how to work it," said Lupin, waving his hand impatiently. "I helped write it. I'm Moony — that was my friends' nickname for me at school."

"You wrote —?"

"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Naveya, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his Hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?"

"It's _Navi_," I snarled, and Black looked at me again, that same look of disbelief, and Lupin ignored my comment.

He had started to pace up and down, looking at us. Little patches of dust rose at his feet.

"You might have been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry—"

"How d'you know about the cloak?"

"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it…" said Lupin, waving an impatient hand again.

"The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."

"What?" said Harry. "No, we weren't!"

"I couldn't believe my eyes," said Lupin, still pacing, and ignoring Harry's interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" said Harry.

"And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labelled Sirius Black… I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —"

"One of us!" Ron said angrily.

"No, Ron," said Lupin. "Two of you."

He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Ron.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he said evenly.

"What?" said Ron. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said Lupin. "Could I see him, please?"

Ron hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black's leg and made a soft hissing noise.

Lupin moved closer to Ron. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.

"What?" Ron said again, holding Scabbers close to him, looking scared. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," croaked Sirius Black suddenly.

"What d'you mean — of course he's a rat —"

"No, he's not," said Lupin quietly. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus," said Black, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

* * *

**End of Chapter 27**

_**A/N: I'd just like to clear up a few things. First of all. Sirius, the poor bugger, has thought for thirteen years that Navi is dead … not to mention his mental state is probably not at its best after Azkaban … so he's basically refusing to believe that Navi exists.**_

_**For now, anyway.**_

_**Don't forget to review ;)**_


	28. Chapter 28: Bedtime Stories

**Chapter 28: Bedtime Stories.**

It took a few seconds for the absurdity of this statement to sink in. Then Ron voiced what we were all thinking.

"You're both mental."

"Ridiculous!" said Hermione faintly.

"You're bloody lunatics," I added.

"Peter Pettigrew's dead!" said Harry. "He killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed at Black, whose face twitched convulsively.

"I meant to," he growled, his yellow teeth bared, "but little Peter got the better of me… not this time, though!"

And Crookshanks was thrown to the floor as Black lunged at Scabbers; Ron yelled with pain as Black's weight fell on his broken leg.

"Sirius, NO!" Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again, "WAIT! You can't do it just like that — they need to understand — we've got to explain —"

"We can explain afterwards!" snarled Black, trying to throw Lupin off. One hand was still clawing the air as it tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Ron's face and neck as he tried to escape.

"They've — got — a — right — to — know — everything!" Lupin panted, still trying to restrain Black. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand, and Harry — you owe Harry and Navi the truth, Sirius!"

Black stopped struggling, his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Ron's bitten, scratched, and bleeding hands, for a split second his eyes darted over to me, before turning back to Ron's rat.

"All right, then," Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…"

"You're nutters, both of you," said Ron shakily, looking round at me, Harry and Hermione for support. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

Ron tried to heave himself up on his good leg, but Lupin raised his wand again, pointing it at Scabbers.

"You're going to hear me out, Ron," he said quietly. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen."

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron yelled, trying to force the rat back into his front pocket, but Scabbers was fighting too hard; Ron swayed and overbalanced, and Harry caught him am pushed him back down to the bed. Then, ignoring Black, Harry turned to Lupin.

"There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die," he said. "A whole street full of them…"

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" said Black savagely, still watching Scabbers struggling in Ron's hands.

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," said Lupin, nodding. "I believed it myself — until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's map never lies… Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry."

Yep. I'm related to a complete psycho, and godchild to a nutter.

Then Hermione spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice, as though trying to will Professor Lupin to talk sensibly.

"But Professor Lupin… Scabbers can't be Pettigrew… it just can't be true, you know it can't…"

"Why can't it be true?" Lupin said calmly, as though they were in class, and Hermione had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with Grindylows.

"Because… because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework — the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things… and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list."

I had barely had time to marvel inwardly at the effort Hermione put into her homework, when Lupin started to laugh.

"Right again, Hermione!" he said. "But the Ministry never knew that here used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus," said Black, who was still watching Scabbers's every desperate move. "I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer."

"All right… but you'll need to help me, Sirius," said Lupin, "I only know how it began…"

Lupin broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All six of them us at it. Then Lupin strode toward it and looked out into the landing.

"No one there…"

"This place is haunted!" said Ron.

"It's not," said Lupin, still looking at the door in a puzzled way. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted… The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me."

He pushed his graying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment then said, "That's where all of this starts — with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten… and if I hadn't been so foolhardy…"

He looked sober and tired. Ron started to interrupt, but Hermione, said, "Shh!" She was watching Lupin very intently.

"This isn't bedtime, Hermione," I commented, causing everyone, except Black (who was bust watching Scabbers) to glare at me.

Then Lupin began speaking again. "I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week, preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform… I'm able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again.

"Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me.

"But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school…" Lupin sighed, and looked directly at Harry. "I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I came to Hogwarts. This house" — Lupin looked miserably around the room, — "the tunnel that leads to it — they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous."

Harry couldn't see where this story was going, but he was listening raptly all the same. The only sound apart from Lupin's voice was Scabbers's frightened squeaking.

"My transformations in those days were — were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumour… Even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it…

"But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black… Peter Pettigrew… and, of course, your father, Harry — James Potter.

"Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her… I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermione, Navi, worked out the truth…

"And they didn't desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi."

"My dad too?" asked Harry, astounded.

"Yes, indeed," said Lupin. "It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong — one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will."

"But how did that help you?" said Hermione, sounding puzzled.

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals," said Lupin. "A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James' Invisibility Cloak. They transformed… Peter, as the smallest, could slip beneath the Willow's attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them."

"Hurry up, Remus," snarled Black, who was still watching Scabbers with a horrible sort of hunger on his face.

Geez, temper Dad.

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there… well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did… And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs."

"What sort of animal —?" Harry began, but Hermione cut him off. "That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?"

"A thought that still haunts me," said Lupin heavily. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless — carried away with our own cleverness.

"I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust, of course… he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others' safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month's adventure. And I haven't changed…"

Lupin's face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. "All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me… and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it… so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

"Snape?" said Black harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers; for the first time in minutes and looking up at Lupin. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," said Lupin heavily. "He's teaching here as well." He looked up at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and me.

"Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons… you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me —"

Black made a derisive noise.

"It served him right," he sneered. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to… hoping he could get us expelled…"

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month." Lupin told Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "We were in the same year, you know, and we — er — didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field… anyway Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be — er — amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it — if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf — but your father, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life… Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was…"

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said Harry slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right," sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Lupin.

Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Lupin.

Oh, this day just keeps getting better and better.

**End of Chapter 28'**

_**A/n: Okay, so Navi's starting to get back to her sarcastic self.**_

_**More unwanted, and badly timed comments to come, i assure you.**_

**_Reviewing is nice and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside._**

**_So, does Nutella, which i happen to be currently eating with a spoon._**

**_Yum._**


	29. Chapter 29: I Know Who He Is

**Chapter 29: I Know Who He Is.**

Hermione screamed and Black leapt to his feet.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," said Snape, throwing the cloak aside, careful to keep this wand pointing directly at Lupin's chest. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you…"

Snape was slightly breathless, but his face was full of suppressed triumph. "You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" he said, his eyes glittering. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did… lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus —" Lupin began, but Snape overrode him.

"I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout —"

"Severus, you're making a mistake," said Lupin urgently. "You haven't heard everything — I can explain — Sirius is not here to kill Harry —"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this… He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin… a tame werewolf —"

"You fool," said Lupin softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

BANG! Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape's wand and twisted themselves around Lupin's mouth, wrists, and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move.

With a roar of rage, Black started toward Snape, but Snape pointed his wand straight between Black's eyes.

"Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

Black stopped dead. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred.

I stood there, blinking, not knowing what to do or whom to believe.

Harry glanced around at Ron, Hermione and me. Ron looked just as confused as he did, still fighting to keep hold on the struggling Scabbers. Hermione, however, took an uncertain step toward Snape and said, in a very breathless voice, "Professor Snape — it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w-would it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat. "You, Potter, Black and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue."

"But if — if there was a mistake —"

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"

A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent.

"Anger management much?" I said, forgetting to restrain myself.

"THIS IS SERIOUS, BLACK!" Snape yelled at me, his wand still pointed at Black.

I really, _really_ tried not to find that funny.

But me, being me, couldn't help myself.

"I know who he is," I said, glancing at Black.

Snape growled menacingly at me and Black looked at me in bewilderment.

Harry glared at me.

And I'm sure Professor Lupin would've facepalmed if he could.

Turning away from me, Snape looked back to Black, "Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at him. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you…"

"The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled.

Yes, I know. I just made one.

"As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle" — he jerked his head at Ron — "I'll come quietly…"

"Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the Dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black… pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay… I —"

What little colour there was in Black's face left it.

"You — you've got to hear me out," he croaked. "The rat — look at the rat —"

But there was a mad glint in Snape's eyes that I had never seen before. He seemed beyond reason.

"Psycho," I muttered.

"Do be quiet, Black! Come on, all of you," he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him too —"

Harry then crossed the room in three strides and blocked the door.

"Get out of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already," snarled Snape. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin —"

"Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year," Harry said. "I've been alone with him loads of times, having defense lessons against the Dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," hissed Snape. "Get out of the way, Potter."

"YOU'RE PATHETIC!" Harry yelled. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN —"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Snape shrieked, looking madder than ever. "Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black — now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"

Before Snape could take even one step toward him, Harry had raised his wand.

I too, lifted my wand, pointing it at the annoying waste of space.

"Expelliarmus!" I yelled — except that Harry and I weren't the only voices that shouted. There was a blast that made the door rattle on its hinges; Snape was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. He had been knocked out.

I looked around. Both Ron and Hermione had tried to disarm Snape at exactly the same moment. Snape's wand soared in a high arc and landed on the bed next to Crookshanks.

"You shouldn't have done that," said Black, looking at Harry, and glancing at me. "You should have left him to me…"

"We attacked a teacher… We attacked a teacher…" Hermione whimpered, staring at the lifeless Snape with frightened eyes. "Oh, we're going to be in so much trouble —"

"For goodness sake Hermione!" I shouted. "Snap out of it!"

She jumped and stared at me.

Lupin was struggling against his bonds. Black bent down quickly and untied him. Lupin straightened up, rubbing his arms where the ropes had cut into them.

"Thank you, Harry," he said.

"I'm still not saying I believe you," he told Lupin.

"Then it's time we offered you some proof," said Lupin. "You, boy — give me Peter, please. Now."

Ron clutched Scabbers closer to his chest.

"Come off it," he said weakly. "Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? I mean…" He looked up at Harry, Hermione and me for support, "Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat — there are millions of rats — how's he supposed to know which one he is after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question," said Lupin, turning to Black and frowning slightly.

"How did you find out where he was?"

Black put one of his claw-like hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show the others.

It was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ron's shoulder, was Scabbers.

"How did you get this?" Lupin asked Black, thunderstruck.

"Fudge," said Black. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page on this boy's shoulder… I knew him at once… how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts… to where Harry was…"

"My God," said Lupin softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. "His front paw…"

"What about it?" said Ron defiantly.

"He's got a toe missing," said Black.

In a completely insane and freaky way … that makes sense.

Sort of.

"Of course," Lupin breathed. "So simple… so brilliant… he cut it off himself?"

"Just before he transformed," said Black. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself — and sped down into the sewer with the other rats…"

"Didn't you ever hear, Ron?" said Lupin. "The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger."

"Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right —"

"Twelve years, in fact," said Lupin. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?"

"We — we've been taking good care of him!" said Ron.

"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?" said Lupin. "I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again…"

"He's been scared of that mad cat!" said Ron, nodding toward Crookshanks, who was still purring on the bed.

I was beyond confused once more.

"This cat isn't mad," said Black hoarsely. He reached out a bony hand and stroked Crookshanks's fluffy head. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me… Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me…"

"What do you mean?" breathed Hermione.

"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't… so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me… As I understand it, he took them from a boy's bedside table…"

I was amazed. It was absurd… and yet…

"But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it." croaked Black. "This cat — Crookshanks, did you call him? — told me Peter had left blood on the sheets… I supposed he bit himself… Well, faking his own death had worked once."

The cat told you?

"And why did he fake his death?" Harry said furiously. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"No," said Lupin, "Harry—"

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have," said Black, with an evil look at Scabbers.

"Then I should've let Snape take you!" Harry shouted.

"Harry," said Lupin hurriedly, "don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down — but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father — Sirius tracked Peter down —"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Harry yelled. "HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"

He was pointing at Black, who shook his head slowly; the sunken eyes were suddenly over bright.

"Harry… I as good as killed them," he croaked. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me… I'm to blame, I know it… The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies… just like Heather … and I realized what Peter must've done… what I'd done…" His voice broke. He turned away.

"Enough of this," said Lupin, and there was a steely note in his voice Harry had never heard before.

"There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, give me that rat."

"What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?" Ron asked Lupin tensely.

"Force him to show himself," said Lupin. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Ron hesitated. Then at long last, he held out Scabbers and Lupin took him. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head. "Ready, Sirius?" said Lupin.

Black had already retrieved Snape's wand from the bed. He approached Lupin and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face.

"Together?" he said quietly.

"I think so", said Lupin, holding Scabbers tightly in one hand and his wand in the other. "On the count of three. One — two — THREE!"

A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in midair, his small gray form twisting madly — Ron yelled — the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then —

It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground; limbs were sprouting; a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed; the hair on his back was standing up.

He was a very short man, hardly taller than me, Harry and Hermione. His thin, colorless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who has lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers's fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose and his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow. I managed to catch his eyes dart to the door and back again.

What.

The.

Hell?

**End of Chapter 29**

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	30. Chapter 30: I'm Sold

**Chapter 30: I'm Sold.**

"Well, hello, Peter," said Lupin pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. "Long time, no see."

"S—Sirius… R—Remus…" Even Pettigrew's voice was squeaky. Again, his eyes darted toward the door. "My friends… my old friends…"

Black's wand arm rose, but Lupin seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning took, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual.

"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed —"

"Remus," gasped Pettigrew, and I could see beads of sweat breaking out over his pasty face, "you don't believe him, do you…? He tried to kill me, Remus…"

"So we've heard," said Lupin, more coldly. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'll be so —"

"He's come to try and kill me again!" Pettigrew squeaked suddenly, pointing at Black, and I saw that he used his middle finger, because his index was missing. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me too… You've got to help me, Remus…"

Black's face looked more skull-like than ever as he stared at Pettigrew with his fathomless eyes.

"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," said Lupin.

"Sorted things out?" squealed Pettigrew, looking wildly about him once more, eyes taking in the boarded windows and, again, the only door. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"

"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?" said Lupin, his brow furrowed. "When nobody has ever done it before?"

"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew shouted shrilly. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!"

Black started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room.

"Voldemort, teach me tricks?" he said.

Pettigrew flinched as though Black had brandished a whip at him.

Well, I'm sold. He said the name. Enough proof for me.

"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" said Black. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"

"Don't know what you mean, Sirius —" muttered Pettigrew, his breathing faster than ever. His whole face was shining with sweat now.

"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years," said Black. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter… They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them… I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information… and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways. If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter —"

"Don't know… what you're talking about…" said Pettigrew again, more shrilly than ever. He wiped his face on his sleeve and looked up at Lupin. "You don't believe this — this madness, Remus —"

"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," said Lupin evenly.

"Innocent, but scared!" squealed Pettigrew. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban — the spy, Sirius Black!"

Black's face contorted.

"How dare you," he growled, sounding suddenly like the bearsized dog he had been. "I, a spy for Voldemort? After Heather was killed? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter — I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us… me and Remus… and James…"

Pettigrew wiped his face again; he was almost panting for breath.

"Me, a spy… must be out of your mind… never… don't know how you can say such a —"

"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backward. "I thought it was the perfect plan… a bluff… Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you… It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."

Pettigrew was muttering distractedly; I caught words like "far-fetched" and "lunacy," but I couldn't help paying more attention to the ashen color of Pettigrew's face and the way his eyes continued to dart toward the windows and door.

"Professor Lupin?" said Hermione timidly. "Can — can I say something?"

"Certainly, Hermione," said Lupin courteously.

"Well — Scabbers — I mean, this — this man — he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?"

"There!" said Pettigrew shrilly, pointing at Ron with his maimed hand. "Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry's head! Why should I?"

"I'll tell you why," said Black. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he's half dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all of his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him…"

Pettigrew opened his mouth and closed it several times. He seemed to have lost the ability to talk.

"Er — Mr. Black — Sirius?" said Hermione.

Black jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Hermione as though he had never seen anything quite like her.

"If you don't mind me asking, how — how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"

"Thank you!" gasped Pettigrew, nodding frantically at her. "Exactly! Precisely what I —"

But Lupin silenced him with a look. Black was frowning slightly at Hermione, but not as though he were annoyed with her. He seemed to be pondering his answer.

"I don't know how I did it," he said slowly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me… but it kept me sane and knowing who I am… helped me keep my powers… so when it all became… too much… I could transform in my cell… become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know…" He swallowed. "They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions… They could tell that my feelings were less — less human, less complex when I was a dog… but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand…

"But then I saw Peter in that picture… I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry… perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again…"

Pettigrew was shaking his head, mouthing noiselessly, but staring all the while at Black as though hypnotized.

"… ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies… and to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honors…

"So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive…"

Harry remembered what Mr. Weasley had told Mrs. Weasley. "The guards say he's been talking in his sleep… always the same words… 'He's at Hogwarts.'"

"It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the Dementors couldn't destroy it… It wasn't a happy feeling… it was an obsession… but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog… It's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused… I was thin, very thin… thin enough to slip through the bars… I swam as a dog back to the mainland… I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I've been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry…"

He looked at Harry, who did not look away.

"Believe me," croaked Black. "Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

And at long last, Harry nodded.

"No!"

Pettigrew had fallen to his knees as though Harry's nod had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forward on his knees, groveling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.

"Sirius — it's me… it's Peter… your friend… you wouldn't —"

Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.

"There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them," said Black.

"Remus!" Pettigrew squeaked, turning to Lupin instead, writhing imploringly in front of him. "You don't believe this — wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"

"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter," said Lupin. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he said casually over Pettigrew's head.

"Forgive me, Remus," said Black.

"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," said Lupin, who was now rolling up his sleeves. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?"

"Of course," said Black, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves. "Shall we kill him together?"

"Yes, I think so," said Lupin grimly.

"You wouldn't… you won't…" gasped Pettigrew. And he scrambled around to Ron.

"Ron… haven't I been a good friend… a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you… you're on my side, aren't you?"

But Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion.

"I let you sleep in my bed!" he said in disgust.

"Kind boy… kind master…" Pettigrew crawled toward Ron "You won't let them do it… I was your rat… I was a good pet…"

"If you made a better rat than a human, it's not much to boast about, Peter," said Black harshly.

Ron, going still paler with pain, wrenched his broken leg out of Pettigrew's reach. Pettigrew turned on his knees, staggered forward, and seized the hem of Hermione's robes.

"Sweet girl… clever girl… you — you won't let them… Help me…"

Hermione pulled her robes out of Pettigrew's clutching hands and backed away against the wall, looking horrified.

Pettigrew knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly toward Harry.

"Harry… Harry… you look just like your father… just like him…"

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" roared Black. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"

"Harry," whispered Pettigrew, shuffling toward him, hands outstretched. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed… James would have understood, Harry… he would have shown me mercy…"

Pettigrew could obviously tell that Harry was a lost cause and turned to me.

"Navi ..." he pleaded. "You look exactly like your mother. We were friends. She wouldn't want you to let them –"

"STAY AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!" roared Black, at the same time as Lupin. Although he said 'her' instead of 'my daughter'.

I also yelled.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Then both Dad and Lupin strode forward, seized Pettigrew's shoulders, and threw him backward onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.

"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," said Black, who was shaking too. "Do you deny it?"

Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.

"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can't imagine… I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me —"

"DON'T LIE!" bellowed Black. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY! YOU TOLD HIM WHERE TO FIND HEATHER AND VEYA!"

Veya?

"He — he was taking over everywhere!" gasped Pettigrew. "Wh-what was there to be gained by refusing him?"

"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" said Black, with a terrible fury in his face. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"

"You don't understand!" whined Pettigrew. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" roared Black. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

Black and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.

"You should have realized," said Lupin quietly, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."

Hermione covered her face with her hands and turned to the wall.

"NO!" Harry yelled.

He ran forward, placing himself in front Pettigrew, facing the wands. "You can't kill him," he said breathlessly. "You can't."

Black and Lupin both looked staggered.

"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents," Black snarled. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."

"I know," Harry panted. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the Dementors… He can go to Azkaban… but don't kill him."

"Harry!" gasped Pettigrew, and he flung his arms around Harry's knees. "You — thank you — it's more than I deserve — thank you —"

"Get off me," Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because — I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers — just for you."

No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Black and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.

"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Harry," said Black. "But think… think what he did…"

"He can go to Azkaban," Harry repeated. "If anyone deserves that place, he does…"

Pettigrew was still wheezing behind him.

"Very well," said Lupin. "Stand aside, Harry."

Harry hesitated.

"I'm going to tie him up," said Lupin. "That's all, I swear."

Harry stepped out of the way. Thin cords shot from Lupin's wand this time, and next moment, Pettigrew was wriggling on the floor, bound and gagged.

"But if you transform, Peter," growled Black, his own wand pointing at Pettigrew too, "we will kill you. You agree, Harry?"

Harry looked down at the pitiful figure on the floor and nodded so that Pettigrew could see him.

"Right," said Lupin, suddenly businesslike. "Ron, I can't mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it's best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing."

He hurried over to Ron, bent down, tapped Ron's leg with his wand, and muttered, "Ferula." Bandages spun up Ron's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Lupin helped him to his feet; Ron put his weight gingerly on the leg and didn't wince.

"That's better," he said. "Thanks."

"What about Professor Snape?" said Hermione in a small voice, looking down at Snape's prone figure.

"Who cares?" I said, and Black sent an approving nod in my direction, but Professor Lupin shot me a look.

"There's nothing seriously wrong with him," said Lupin, bending over Snape and checking his pulse. "You were just a little — overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er — perhaps it will be best if we don't revive him until we're safety back in the castle. We can take him like this…"

He muttered, "Mobilicorpus." As though invisible strings were tied to Snape's wrists, neck, and knees, he was pulled into a standing position, head still lolling unpleasantly, like a grotesque puppet. He hung a few inches above the ground, his limp feet dangling. Lupin picked up the Invisibility Cloak and tucked it safely into his pocket.

"And two of us should be chained to this," said Black, nudging Pettigrew with his toe. "Just to make sure."

"I'll do it," said Lupin.

"And me," said Ron savagely, limping forward.

Black conjured heavy manacles from thin air; soon Pettigrew was upright again, left arm chained to Lupin's right, right arm to Ron's left. Ron's face was set. He seemed to have taken Scabbers's true identity as a personal insult. Crookshanks leapt lightly off the bed and led the way out of the room, his bottlebrush tail held jauntily high.

"Dude," I said, grinning. "This has got to be, the weirdest day of my life."

Black then turned to me and put a grubby hand on my cheek.

"You look just like her."

Then I found myself in a bone crushing hug.

For someone who was fairly wasted away … he had a strong grip.

"My little Veya."

I bristled slightly. "Who're you calling little?"

…

"You can let go now."

"Oh, right, sorry."

**End of Chapter 30.**

**_A/N: Good luck to everyone in Queensland with Cyclone Yasi. I hope that all of you remain safe from the Category 5 storm._**

**_For those of you who haven't heard, Cyclone Yasi is the worst cyclone to have ever hit Australia's coast, and it hits tonight._**

**_(A Cyclone is the same thing as a Hurricane, for those who don't know)_**


	31. Chapter 31: Just Our Luck

**_A/N: I am happy to annouce that so far, no fatalities have been reported for the cyclone, and structural damage has been minimal luckily most people were _****_evacuated._**

**_I'm sure we all hope the news stays this way._**

**Chapter 31: Timing Fail.**

This had to be the wierdest group … that had ever graced this tunnel. Crookshanks led the way down the stairs; Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron went next, looking like entrants in a six-legged race. Next came Professor Snape, drifting creepily along, his toes hitting each stair as they descended, held up by his own wand, which was being pointed at him by Dad, with me next to him. Harry and Hermione brought up the rear.

Getting back into the tunnel was difficult. Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron had to turn sideways to manage it; Lupin still had Pettigrew covered with his wand. I could see them edging awkwardly along the tunnel in single file. Crookshanks was still in the lead.

I went just behind Dad, with Harry next to me.

Dad was still making Snape drift along ahead of us; he kept bumping his lolling head on the low ceiling. And I had the impression Dad was making no effort to prevent this, in fact, he was probably doing it on purpose.

"You know what this means?" Black said abruptly to Harry and me as we made our slow progress along the tunnel. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free," said Harry.

"Yes…" said Black. "But I'm also — I don't know if anyone ever told you — I'm your godfather, Harry."

"Yeah, I knew that," said Harry.

"Well… your parents appointed me your guardian," said Dad stiffly. "If anything happened to them…well, you and Veya ..."

Hang on a sec ...

"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle," said Dad. "But… well… think about it. Once my name's cleared… if you wanted a… a different home…"

"What — live with you?" Harry asked, accidentally cracking his head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling. "Leave the Dursleys?"

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," said Dad quickly. "I understand, I just thought I'd —"

"Are you insane?" said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Dad's. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

Dad turned right around to look at us; Snape's head was scraping the ceiling but Dad didn't seem to care.

"You want to?" he said. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" said Harry.

"We'll be one big happy family," I added with a smile.

Dad's gaunt face broke into the first true smile we had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask.

We didn't speak again until we had reached the end of the tunnel. Crookshanks darted up first; he had evidently pressed his paw to the knot on the trunk, because Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron clambered upward without any sound of savaging branches.

Black saw Snape up through the hole, then stood back for me, Harry and Hermione to pass. At last, all of us were out.

The grounds were very dark now; the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, they set off. Pettigrew was still wheezing and occasionally whimpering.

I was smiling.

I had a family. A real family.

Harry and I could move in with Dad, and then we ––

"One wrong move, Peter," said Lupin threateningly ahead. His wand was still pointed sideways at Pettigrew's chest.

Silently we tramped through the grounds, the castle lights growing slowly larger. Snape was still drifting weirdly ahead of Dad, his chin bumping on his chest. And then -

A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight.

Snape collided with Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron, who had stopped abruptly. Dad froze. He flung out one arm to make Harry, Hermione and me stop.

We could see Lupin's silhouette. He had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.

"Oh, my —" Hermione gasped. "He didn't take his potion tonight! He's not safe!"

"Run," Dad whispered. "Run. Now."

Ron was chained to Pettigrew and Lupin. Harry leapt forward but Black caught him around the chest and threw him back.

"Leave it to me — RUN!"

"No!" I shouted.

"RUN VEYA!"

There was a terrible snarling noise. Lupin's head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. Crookshanks' hair was on end again; he was backing away —

As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Sirius disappeared from our side. He had transformed. The enormous, bearlike dog bounded forward. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backward, away from Ron and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other.

We stood, transfixed by the sight, too intent upon the battle to notice anything else. It was Hermione's scream that alerted me — Pettigrew had dived for Lupin's dropped wand. Ron, unsteady on his bandaged leg, fell. There was a bang, a burst of light — and Ron lay motionless on the ground. Another bang — Crookshanks flew into the air and back to the earth in a heap.

"Expelliarmus." Harry yelled, pointing his own wand at Pettigrew; Lupin's wand flew high into the air and out of sight. "Stay where you are!" Harry shouted, running forward.

Too late. Pettigrew had transformed. I saw his bald tail whip through the manacle on Ron's outstretched arm and heard a scurrying through the grass.

I whipped out my own wand.

There was a howl and a rumbling growl; I turned to see the werewolf taking flight; it was galloping into the forest —

"Sirius, he's gone, Pettigrew transformed!" Harry yelled.

Dad was bleeding; there were gashes across his muzzle and back, but at Harry's words he scrambled up again, and in an instant, the sound of his paws faded to silence as he pounded away across the grounds.

"Dad!" I shouted after him.

Harry and Hermione dashed over to Ron, me close behind them.

"What did he do to him?" Hermione whispered. Ron's eyes were only half-closed, his mouth hung open; he was definitely alive, they could hear him breathing, but he didn't seem to recognize them.

"I don't know…"

Harry looked desperately around.

"We'd better get them up to the castle and tell someone," said Harry, pushing his hair out of his eyes, trying to think straight. "Come —"

But then, from beyond the range of their vision, they heard a yelping, a whining: a dog in pain…

"Sirius," Harry muttered, staring into the darkness.

Dad, no …

Harry set off at a run, Hermione and me right behind him. The yelping seemed to be coming from the ground near the edge of the lake. We pelted toward it, and me, running flat out, felt the cold without realizing what it must mean -

The yelping stopped abruptly. As we reached the lakeshore, we saw why — Sirius had turned back into a man. He was crouched on all fours, his hands over his head.

"Dad!" I shouted.

"Nooo," he moaned. "Nooo… please…"

And then we saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the lake toward them. I spun around, the familiar, icy cold penetrating his insides, fog starting to obscure his vision; more were appearing out of the darkness on every side; they were encircling them…

"Hermione, Naves, think of something happy!" Harry yelled, raising his wand,

I raised my wand, thinking of the thought of going to live with Dad.

"Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!" I chanted along with Harry, but only feeble mist came out of my wand.

Dad gave a shudder, rolled over, and lay motionless on the ground, pale as death.

Come on, Dad, no …

"Expecto patronum! Hermione, help me! Expecto patronum!"

"Expecto —" Hermione whispered, "expecto — expecto —"

But she couldn't do it. The Dementors were closing in, barely ten feet from them. They formed a solid wall around us, and were getting closer…

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry yelled. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

I heard more voices.

"_But what about Sirius, Heather?"_

"_I don't give a damn, Reg! Keep my baby safe! Make sure no one can find her!"_

"_Pa'foo," a small voice said happily and I heard my mother let out a choked sob._

"_Regulus, please," she begged. "Keep my baby safe."_

And then everything faded away completely.

**End of Chapter 31**

_**Okay, so Cyclone Yasi is over and gone ... and now Victoria is supposed to cop a lot of rain from the remains of it.**_

_**Great.**_

_**Oh, and school starts back tomorrow, so wish me luck for my VCE, and i hope i get lots of time to update.**_

_**Navi out.**_


	32. Chapter 32: Unconfunded Confunded People

**Chapter 32: Unconfunded Confuded People**

"Shocking business… shocking… miracle none of them died… never heard the like… by thunder, it was lucky you were there, Snape…"

"Thank you, Minister."

"Order of Merlin, Second Class, I'd say. First Class, if I can wangle it!"

What the bloody hell's going on?

"Thank you very much indeed, Minister."

"Nasty cut you've got there… Black's work, I suppose?"

"As a matter of fact, it was Potter, Weasley, Black –– no, _that_ Black, and Granger, Minister…"

"Black had bewitched them, I saw it immediately. A Confundus Charm, to judge by their behavior. They seemed to think there was a possibility he was innocent. They weren't responsible for their actions. On the other hand, their interference might have permitted Black to escape… They obviously thought they were going to catch Black single-handed. They've got away with a great deal before now… I'm afraid it's given them a rather high opinion of themselves… and of course Potter has always been allowed an extraordinary amount of license by the headmaster —"

"Ah, well, Snape… Harry Potter, you know… we've all got a bit of a blind spot where he's concerned."

"And yet — is it good for him to be given so much special treatment? Personally, I try and treat him like any other student. And any other student would be suspended — at the very least — for leading his friends into such danger. Consider, Minister — against all school rules — after all the precautions put in place for his protection — out-of-bounds, at night, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer — and I have reason to believe he has been visiting Hogsmeade illegally too —"

"Well, well… we shall see, Snape, we shall see… The boy has undoubtedly been foolish…"

I was really confused.

"What amazes me most is the behaviour of the Dementors… you've really no idea what made them retreat, Snape?"

"No, Minister… by the time I had come 'round they were heading back to their positions at the entrances…"

"Extraordinary. And yet Black, both Blacks, and Harry, and the girl —"

"All unconscious by the time I reached them. I bound and gagged Black, naturally, conjured stretchers, and brought them all straight back to the castle."

There was a pause.

Wait, what?

They caught Dad.

I opened my eyes.

I was in the hospital wing.

And the voices of Cornelius Fudge and Snape were coming through from the corridor outside.

Madam Pomfrey now came walking briskly up the dark ward to Harry's bed. I turned to look at her. She was carrying the largest block of chocolate I had seen in my entire life. It looked like a small boulder.

"Ah, you're awake!" she said briskly. She placed the chocolate on Harry's bedside table and began breaking it apart with a small hammer.

"How's Ron?" said Harry, Hermione and I together.

"He'll live," said Madam Pomfrey grimly. "As for you three, you'll be staying here until I'm satisfied you're — Potter, what do you think you're doing?"

Harry was sitting up, putting his glasses back on, and picking up his wand.

"I need to see the headmaster," he said.

"Potter," said Madam Pomfrey soothingly, "it's all right. They've got Black. He's locked away upstairs. The Dementors will be performing the kiss any moment now —"

"WHAT?" I screeched along with Harry, jumping out of bed. Harry and Hermione had done the same. But our shout had been heard in the corridor outside; next second, Cornelius Fudge and Snape had entered the ward.

"Harry, Harry, what's this?" said Fudge, looking agitated. "You should be in bed — has he had any chocolate?" he asked Madam Pomfrey anxiously.

"Minister, listen!" Harry said. "Sirius Black's innocent! Peter Pettigrew faked his own death! We saw him tonight! You can't let the Dementors do that thing to Sirius, he's —"

But Fudge was shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

"Harry, Harry, you're very confused, you've been through a dreadful ordeal, lie back down, now, we've got everything under control…"

"YOU HAVEN'T!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!"

"Minister, listen, please," Hermione said; she had hurried to Harry's side and was gazing imploringly into Fudge's face.

"My Dad's innocent!" I said, looking at the Minister pleadingly,

"I saw him too. It was Ron's rat, he's an Animagus, Pettigrew, I mean, and —"

"You see, Minister?" said Snape. "Confunded, all three of them… Black's done a very good job on them…"

"WE'RE NOT CONFUNDED!" Harry roared.

"Minister! Professor!" said Madam Pomfrey angrily. "I must insist that you leave. Potter is my patient, and he should not be distressed!"

"I'm not distressed, I'm trying to tell them what happened!" Harry said furiously. "If they'd just listen —"

But Madam Pomfrey suddenly stuffed a large chunk of chocolate into Harry"s mouth; he choked, and she seized the opportunity to force him back onto the bed.

"He didn't kill anyone!" I shouted, still trying to get them to see reason.

"Now, please, Minister, these children need care. Please leave."

The door opened again. It was Dumbledore. Harry swallowed his mouthful of chocolate got up again.

"Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black —"

"For heaven's sake!" said Madam Pomfrey hysterically. "Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmaster, I must insist —"

"My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr. Potter, Navi and Miss Granger," said Dumbledore calmly. "I have just been talking to Sirius Black —"

"I suppose he's told you the same fairy tale he's planted in Potter's mind?" spat Snape. "Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive —"

"That, indeed, is Black's story," said Dumbledore, surveying Snape closely through his half-moon spectacles.

"And does my evidence count for nothing?" snarled Snape. "Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him on the grounds."

"That was because you were knocked out, Professor!" said Hermione earnestly. "You didn't arrive in time to hear."

"Miss Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!"

"Don't shout at her!" I shouted at him.

Wow. Talk about irony.

"Now, Snape," said Fudge, startled, "the young ladies are disturbed in their minds, we must make allowances —"

"I would like to speak to Harry, Hermione and Navi alone," said Dumbledore abruptly. "Cornelius, Severus, Poppy — please leave us."

"Headmaster!" sputtered Madam Pomfrey. "They need treatment, they need rest —"

"This cannot wait," said Dumbledore. "I must insist."

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips and strode away into her office at the end of the ward, slamming the door behind her. Fudge consulted the large gold pocket watch dangling from his waistcoat.

"The Dementors should have arrived by now," he said. "I'll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I'll see you upstairs."

He crossed to the door and held it open for Snape, but Snape hadn't moved.

"You surely don't believe a word of Black's story?" Snape whispered, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's face.

"I wish to speak to Navi, Harry and Hermione alone," Dumbledore repeated.

Snape took a step toward Dumbledore.

"Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," he breathed.

"You haven't forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill me?"

"My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly.

Snape turned on his heel and marched through the door Fudge was still holding. It closed behind them, and Dumbledore turned to the three of us. We all burst into speech at the same time.

"Professor, Black's telling the truth — we saw Pettigrew — he escaped when Professor Lupin turned into a werewolf —"

"—he's a rat —"

"—Pettigrew's front paw, I mean, finger, he cut it off —"

"—Pettigrew attacked Ron, it wasn't Sirius —"

"–– Dad didn't do it ––"

But Dumbledore held up his hand to stem the flood of explanations.

"It is your turn to listen, and I beg you will not interrupt me, because there is very little time," he said quietly. "There is not a shred of proof to support Black's story, except your word — and the word of three thirteen-year-old wizards will not convince anybody. A street full of eyewitnesses swore they saw Sirius murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Sirius had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper."

"Professor Lupin can tell you —" Harry said, unable to stop himself

"Professor Lupin is currently deep in the forest, unable to tell anyone anything. By the time he is human again, it will be too late, Sirius will be worse than dead. I might add that werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that his support will count for very little and the fact that he and Sirius are old friends —"

"But —"

"Listen to me, Harry. It is too late, you understand me? You must see that Professor Snape's version of events is far more convincing than yours."

"He hates Sirius," Hermione said desperately. "All because of some stupid trick Sirius played on him —"

"Sirius has not acted like an innocent man. The attack on the Fat Lady — entering Gryffindor Tower with a knife — without Pettigrew, alive or dead, we have no chance of overturning Sirius's sentence."

"But you believe us?"

"Yes, I do," said Dumbledore quietly. "But I have no power to make other men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister of Magic…"

What? There was nothing he could do to help save my Dad?

"What we need," said Dumbledore slowly, and his light blue eyes moved between the three od us, "is more time."

"But —" Hermione began. And then her eyes became very round. "OH!"

Ah. Right.

The Time-Turner.

"Now, pay attention," said Dumbledore, speaking very low, and very clearly. "Sirius is locked in Professor Flitwick's office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight. But remember this, both of you: you must not be seen. Miss Granger, you know the law — you know what is at stake… You — must — not — be —seen."

Dumbledore turned on his heel and looked back as he reached the door.

"I am going to lock you in. It is —" he consulted his watch, "five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck."

"Good luck?" Harry repeated as the door closed behind Dumbledore. "Three turns? What's he talking about? What are we supposed to do?"

But Hermione was fumbling with the neck of her robes, pulling from beneath them a very long, very fine gold chain.

"Harry, Navi, come here," she said urgently. "Quick!"

Harry moved toward her, completely bewildered, I on the other hand, was grinning..

She was holding the chain out. He saw a tiny, sparkling hourglass hanging from it.

"Here —"

She had thrown the chain around our necks as well.

"Ready?" she said breathlessly.

"As we'll ever be."

"What are we doing?" Harry said, completely lost.

Hermione turned the hourglass over three times.

The dark ward dissolved. It was like flying very fast, backward. A blur of colours and shapes rushed past us, my ears were pounding —

And then I felt solid ground beneath my feet, and everything came into focus again —

**End of Chapter 32**

**_A/N: Already one day back at school, and i wish it was the holidays again._**

**_*sigh*_**

**_And to make matters worse ... it's hot and rainy._**

**_I'm surviving off of ice cream and jubblies._**

**_Not that i'm complaining ..._**


	33. Chapter 33: On a Mission A Secret Missio

**Chapter 33: On a Mission ... A Secret Mission ... Three Hours Ago.**

We were standing next to Hermione in the deserted entrance hall and a stream of golden sunlight was falling across the paved floor from the open front doors. Harry looked wildly around at Hermione while I pulled the chain off my neck.

"Hermione, what —?"

"In here!" Hermione seized Harry's arm and dragged him across the hall to the door of a broom closet, me right on their tail; she opened it, pushed him inside among the buckets and mops, then we jumped in as well, then slammed the door behind them.

"What — how — Hermione, Naves, what happened?"

"We've gone back in time," Hermione whispered, lifting the chain off Harry's neck in the darkness. "Three hours back…"

"But —"

"Shh! Listen! Someone's coming! I think — I think it might be us!" Hermione had her ear pressed against the cupboard door.

"Footsteps across the hall… yes, I think it's us going down to Hagrid's!"

"Are you telling me," Harry whispered, "that we're here in this cupboard and we're out there too?"

"Yes," said Hermione, her ear still glued to the cupboard door. "I'm sure it's us. It doesn't sound like more than four people… and we're walking slowly because we're under the Invisibility Cloak — " She broke off, still listening intently. "We've gone down the front steps…"

Hermione sat down on an upturned bucket, looking desperately anxious, but Harry seem to want a few questions answered.

"Where did you get that hourglass thing?"

"It's called a Time-Turner," Hermione whispered, "and I got it from Professor McGonagall on our first day back. I've been using it all year to get to all my lessons. Professor McGonagall made me swear I wouldn't tell anyone. She had to write all sorts of letters to the Ministry of Magic so I could have one. She had to tell them that I was a model student, and that I'd never, ever use it for anything except my studies… I've been turning it back so I could do hours over again, that's how I've been doing several lessons at once, see? I only told Navi because I needed someone to help keep people off my trail. But…

"Harry, I don't understand what Dumbledore wants us to do. Why did he tell us to go back three hours? How's that going to help Sirius?"

Harry and I stared at her shadowy face.

"There must be something that happened around now he wants us to change," he said slowly. "What happened? We were walking down to Hagrid's three hours ago…"

"This is three hours ago, and we are walking down to Hagrid's," said Hermione. "We just heard ourselves leaving…"

I was frowning, trying to figure it all out, whe, Harry spoke.

"Dumbledore just said — just said we could save more than one innocent life…Hermione, Naves, we're going to save Buckbeak!"

"But — how will that help Sirius?"

"The window!" I exclaimed with a grin.

"Right. Dumbledore said — he just told us where the window is — the window of Flitwick's office! Where they've got Sirius locked up! We've got to fly Buckbeak up to the window and rescue Sirius! Sirius can escape on Buckbeak — they can escape together!"

Hermione looked terrified.

"Why, don't you want to save Buckbeak?" I asked her.

"If we manage that without being seen, it'll be a miracle!"

"Well, we've got to try, haven't we?" said Harry. He stood up and pressed his ear against the door. "Doesn't sound like anyone's there… Come on, let's go."

Harry pushed open the closet door. The entrance hall was deserted. As quietly and quickly as we could, we darted out of the closet and down the stone steps. The shadows were already lengthening, the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest gilded once more with gold.

"If anyone's looking out of the window —" Hermione squeaked, looking up at the castle behind them.

"We'll run for it," said Harry determinedly. "Straight into the forest, all right? We'll have to hide behind a tree or something and keep a lookout —"

"Okay, but we'll go around by the greenhouses!' said Hermione breathlessly. "We need to keep out of sight of Hagrid's front door, or we'll see us! We must be nearly at Hagrid's by now!"

We then set off at a sprint, Hermione behind us. We tore across the vegetable gardens to the greenhouses, paused for a moment behind them, then set off again, fast as we could, skirting around the Whomping Willow, tearing toward the shelter of the forest…

Safe in the shadows of the trees, Harry turned around; seconds later, Hermione arrived beside us, panting, and I turned around as well.

"Right," she gasped. "We need to sneak over to Hagrid's… Keep out of sight, Harry…"

We made our way silently through the trees, keeping to the very edge of the forest. Then, as we glimpsed the front of Hagrid's house, they heard a knock upon his door. We moved quickly behind a wide oak trunk and peered out from either side. Hagrid had appeared in his doorway, shaking and white, looking around to see who had knocked. And I heard Harry's voice.

"It's us. We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."

"Yeh shouldn've come!" Hagrid whispered. He stood back, then shut the door quickly.

"This is the weirdest thing we've ever done," Harry said fervently.

"True that," I agreed.

"Let's move along a bit," Hermione whispered. "We need to get nearer to Buckbeak!"

They crept through the trees until they saw the nervous Hippogriff, tethered to the fence around Hagrid's pumpkin patch.

"Now?" Harry whispered.

"No!" said Hermione. "If we steal him now, those Committee people will think Hagrid set him free! We've got to wait until they've seen he's tied outside!"

"That's going to give us about sixty seconds," said Harry. This was starting to seem impossible.

At that moment, there was a crash of breaking china from inside Hagrid's cabin.

"That's Hagrid breaking the milk jug," Hermione whispered. "I'm going to find Scabbers in a moment —"

"Why can't we just get the damn rat?" I muttered.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, we heard Hermione's shriek of surprise.

"Hermione," said Harry suddenly, "what if we — we just run in there and grab Pettigrew —"

"No!" said Hermione in a terrified whisper. "Don't you understand? We're breaking one of the most important wizarding laws! Nobody's supposed to change time, nobody! You heard Dumbledore, if we're seen —"

"We'd only be seen by ourselves and Hagrid!"

"Harry, what do you think you'd do if you saw yourself bursting into Hagrid's house?" said Hermione.

"I'd — I'd think I'd gone mad," said Harry, "or I'd think there was some Dark Magic going on —"

"Exactly! You wouldn't understand, you might even attack yourself! Don't you see? Professor McGonagall told me what awful things have happened when wizards have meddled with time… Loads of them ended up killing their past or future selves by mistake!"

"Okay!" said Harry. "It was just an idea, I just thought —"

But Hermione pointed toward the castle. Dumbledore, Fudge, the old Committee member, and Macnair the executioner were coming down the steps.

"We're about to come out!" Hermione breathed.

And sure enough, moments later, Hagrid's back door opened, and I saw myself, Harry, Ron, and Hermione walking out of it with Hagrid. It was, without a doubt, the strangest thing I'd ever seen in my life, standing behind the tree, and watching myself in the pumpkin patch.

"It's okay, Beaky, it's okay…" Hagrid said to Buckbeak. Then he turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Go on. Get goin'."

"Hagrid, we can't —"

"We'll tell them what really happened —"

"They can't kill him —"

"This isn't right —"

"Go! It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"

We watched the Hermione in the pumpkin patch throw the Invisibility Cloak over Harry, Ron and me.

"Go quick. Don' listen…"

There was a knock on Hagrid's front door. The execution party had arrived. Hagrid turned, around and headed back into his cabin, leaving the back door ajar. I watched the grass flatten in patches all around the cabin and heard three pairs of feet retreating. We had gone… but Harry, Hermione and me, hidden in the trees could now hear what was happening inside the cabin through the back door.

"Where is the beast?" came the cold voice of Macnair.

"Out — outside," Hagrid croaked.

I pulled Harry out of sight as Macnair's face appeared at Hagrid's window, staring out at Buckbeak. Then we heard Fudge.

"We — er — have to read you the official notice of execution, Hagrid. I'll make it quick. And then you and Macnair need to sign it. Macnair, You're supposed to listen too, that's procedure-"

Macnair's face vanished from the window. It was now or never.

"Wait here," Harry whispered to Hermione and me. "I'll do it."

As Fudge's voice started again, Harry darted out from behind his tree, vaulted the fence into the pumpkin patch, and approached Buckbeak.

"Don't forget to bow, Harry," I whispered nervously.

"It is the decision of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures that the Hippogriff Buckbeak, hereafter called the condemned, shall he executed on the sixth of June at sundown—"

Harry stared up into Buckbeak's fierce orange eyes once more and bowed. Buckbeak sank to his scaly knees and then stood up again. Harry began to fumble with the knot of rope tying Buckbeak to the fence.

"Come on, come on," I whispered to myself,

"… sentenced to execution by beheading, to be carried out by the Committee's appointed executioner, Walden Macnair… as witnessed below. Hagrid, you sign here…"

Harry threw all his weight onto the rope, but Buckbeak had dug in his front feet.

"Come on, Buckbeak," I said through gritted teeth

"Well, let's get this over with," said the reedy voice of the Committee member from inside Hagrid's cabin. "Hagrid, perhaps it will be better if you stay inside —"

"No, I — I wan' ter be with him… I don' wan' him ter be alone —"

Footsteps echoed from within the cabin.

"Buckbeak, move!" I hissed.

Harry tugged harder on the rope around Buckbeak's neck. The Hippogriff began to walk, rustling its wings irritably. They were still ten feet away from the forest, in plain view of Hagrid's back door.

"One moment, please, Macnair," came Dumbledore's voice. "You need to sign too." The footsteps stopped. Harry heaved on the rope. Buckbeak snapped his beak and walked a little faster.

We could still hear Dumbledore's voice talking from within the cabin. Harry gave the rope another wrench. Buckbeak broke into a grudging trot. They had reached the trees…

"Quick! Quick!" Hermione moaned, as we darted out from behind our tree, seized the rope too and adding our weight to make Buckbeak move faster. I looked over my shoulder; we were now blocked from sight; we couldn't see Hagrid's garden at all.

"Stop!" Harry whispered to Hermione. "They might hear us."

Hagrid's back door had opened with a bang. Harry, Hermione, me, and Buckbeak stood quite still; even the Hippogriff seemed to be listening intently. Silence… then —

"Where is it?" said the reedy voice of the Committee member. "Where is the beast?"

"It was tied here!" said the executioner furiously. "I saw it! Just here!"

"How extraordinary," said Dumbledore. There was a note of amusement in his voice.

"Beaky!" said Hagrid huskily.

There was a swishing noise, and the thud of an axe. The executioner seemed to have swung it into the fence in anger. And then came the howling, and this time they could hear Hagrid's words through his sobs.

"Gone! Gone! Bless his little beak, he's gone! Musta pulled himself free! Beaky, yeh clever boy!"

Buckbeak started to strain against the rope, trying to get back to Hagrid. We tightened our grip and dug our heels into the forest floor to stop him.

"Someone untied him!" the executioner was snarling. "We should search the grounds, the forest."

"Macnair, if Buckbeak has indeed been stolen, do you really think the thief will have led him away on foot?" said Dumbledore, still sounding amused. "Search the skies, if you will… Hagrid, I could do with a cup of tea. Or a large brandy."

"O' — o' course, Professor," said Hagrid, who sounded weak with happiness. "Come in, come in…"

We listened closely, and heard footsteps, the soft cursing of the executioner, the snap of the door, and then silence once more.

"Now what?" whispered Harry, looking around.

"We'll have to hide in here," said Hermione, who looked very shaken. "We need to wait until they've gone back to the castle. Then we wait until it's safe to fly Buckbeak up to Sirius's window. He won't be there for another couple of hours… Oh, this is going to be difficult…"

She looked nervously over her shoulder into the depths of the forest. The sun was setting now.

"We're going to have to move," said Harry, thinking hard. "We've got to be able to see the Whomping Willow, or we won't know what's going on."

"Okay," said Hermione, getting a firmer grip on Buckbeak's rope. "But we've got to keep out of sight, Harry, remember…"

We moved around the edge of the forest, darkness falling thickly around us, until we were hidden behind a clump of trees through which we could make out the Willow.

"There's Ron!" said Harry suddenly.

A dark figure was sprinting across the lawn and its shout echoed through the still night air.

"Get away from him — get away — Scabbers, come here —"

And then we saw three more figures materialize out of nowhere. We watched ourselves chasing after Ron. Then we saw Ron dive.

"Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —"

"There's Sirius!" said Harry. The great shape of the dog had bounded out from the roots of the Willow. They saw him bowl Harry over, then seize on…

"Looks even worse from here, doesn't it?" said Harry, watching the dog pulling Ron into the roots, me right behind him..

"Nice moves, Nave — Ouch — look, I just got walloped by the tree — and so did you — this is weird —"

The Whomping Willow was creaking and lashing out with its lower branches; we could see Harry and Hermione darting here and there, trying to reach the trunk. And then the tree froze.

"That was Crookshanks pressing the knot," said Hermione.

"And there we go…" Harry muttered. "We're in."

"Huh," I said. "So, that's how you two got in."

The moment they disappeared, the tree began to move again. Seconds later, we heard footsteps quite close by. Dumbledore, Macnair, Fudge, and the old Committee member were making their way up to the castle.

"Right after we'd gone down into the passage!" said Hermione. "If only Dumbledore had come with us…"

"Macnair and Fudge would've come too," said Harry bitterly. "I bet you anything Fudge would've told Macnair to murder Sirius on the spot…"

I nodded my agreement.

We watched the four men climb the castle steps and disappear from view. For a few minutes the scene was deserted. Then —

"Here comes Lupin!" said Harry as we saw another figure sprinting down the stone steps and halting toward the Willow. Harry looked up at the sky. Clouds were obscuring the moon completely.

They watched Lupin seize a broken branch from the ground and prod the knot on the trunk. The tree stopped fighting, and Lupin, too, disappeared into the gap in its roots.

"If he'd only grabbed the cloak," said Harry. "It's just lying there…"

Harry turned to Hermione.

"If I just dashed out now and grabbed it, Snape'd never be able to get it and —"

"Harry, we mustn't be seen!"

"No!" I hissed at him.

"How can you stand this?" he asked us fiercely. "Just standing here and watching it happen?" He hesitated. "I'm going to grab the cloak!"

"Harry, no!"

Hermione and I seized the back of Harry's robes not a moment too soon. Just then, we heard a burst of song. It was Hagrid, making his way up to the castle, singing at the top of his voice, and weaving slightly as he walked. A large bottle was swinging from his hands.

"See?" Hermione whispered. "See what would have happened? We've got to keep out of sight! No, Buckbeak!"

The Hippogriff was making frantic attempts to get to Hagrid again; Harry and I seized the rope too, straining to hold Buckbeak back. We watched Hagrid meander tipsily up to the castle. He was gone. Buckbeak stopped fighting to get away. His head drooped sadly.

Barely two minutes later, the castle doors flew open yet again, and Snape came charging out of them, running toward the Willow.

Harry's fists clenched as they watched Snape skid to a halt next to the tree, looking around. He grabbed the cloak and held it up.

"Get your filthy hands off it," Harry snarled under his breath.

"Shh!"

Snape seized the branch Lupin had used to freeze the tree, prodded the knot, and vanished from view as he put on the cloak.

"So that's it," said Hermione quietly. "We're all down there… and now we've just got to wait until we come back up again…"

She took the end of Buckbeak's rope and tied it securely around the nearest tree, then sat down on the dry ground, arms around her knees.

"Harry, there's something I don't understand… Why didn't the Dementors get Sirius? I remember them coming, and then I think I passed out… there were so many of them…"

I frowned in confusion.

Harry sat down too. He explained what he'd seen; how, as the nearest Dementor had lowered its mouth to Harry's, a large silver something had come galloping across the lake and forced the Dementors to retreat.

Wow.

I was gaping by the end of it.

"But what was it?"

"There's only one thing it could have been, to make the Dementors go," said Harry. "A real Patronus. A powerful one."

"But who conjured it?"

Harry didn't say anything.

But he seemed to be thinking about something.

"Who did you think it was?"

"Didn't you see what they looked like?" said Hermione eagerly. "Was it one of the teachers?"

"No," said Harry. "He wasn't a teacher."

"But it must have been a really powerful wizard, to drive all those Dementors away… If the Patronus was shining so brightly, didn't it light him up? Couldn't you see —?"

"Yeah, I saw him," said Harry slowly. "But… maybe I imagined it… I wasn't thinking straight… I passed out right afterward…"

"Who did you think it was?"

"I think —" Harry swallowed, knowing how strange this was going to sound. "I think it was my dad."

Huh?

"Harry, your dad's — well — dead," Hermione said quietly.

"I know that," said Harry quickly.

"You think you saw his ghost?"

"I don't know… no… he looked solid…"

"Zombie?" I questioned, earning a whack to the head from Harry.

"But then —"

"Maybe I was seeing things," said Harry. "But… from what I could see… it looked like him… I've got photos of him…"

Hermione was still looking at him as though worried about his sanity.

"I know it sounds crazy," said Harry flatly. He turned to took at Buckbeak, who was digging his beak into the ground, apparently searching for worms.

I looked over at the Whomping Willow.

My Dad was there.

The leaves overhead rustled faintly in the breeze. The moon drifted in and out of sight behind the shifting clouds. Hermione sat with her face turned toward the Willow, waiting.

And then, at last, after over an hour…

"Here we come!" Hermione whispered.

We got to ur feet. Buckbeak raised his head. We saw Lupin, Ron, and Pettigrew clambering awkwardly out of the hole in the roots. Then came Hermione… then the unconscious Snape, drifting weirdly upward. Next came Harry, me and Dad. We all began to walk toward the castle.

It pained me to know what was coming.

"Harry," Hermione muttered as though she knew exactly what he was thinking, "we've got to stay put. We mustn't be seen. There's nothing we can do…"

"So we're just going to let Pettigrew escape all over again…" said Harry quietly, this obviously boithered him as much as it bothered me.

"How do you expect to find a rat in the dark?" snapped Hermione. "There's nothing we can do! We came back to help Sirius; we're not supposed to be doing anything else!"

"All right!"

The moon slid out from behind its cloud. They saw the tiny figures across the grounds stop. Then they saw movement —

"There goes Lupin," Hermione whispered. "He's transforming."

"Hermione!" said Harry suddenly. "We've got to move!"

"We mustn't, I keep telling you —"

"Not to interfere! Lupin's going to run into the forest, right at us!"

Hermione gasped.

Oh, holy mushrooms!

"Quick!" she moaned, dashing to untie Buckbeak. "Quick! Where are we going to go? Where are we going to hide? The Dementors will be coming any moment —"

"Back to Hagrid's!" Harry said. "It's empty now — come on!"

We ran as fast as we could, Buckbeak cantering along behind us. We could hear the werewolf howling behind us…

The cabin was in sight; Harry skidded to the door, wrenched it open, and Hermione, me and Buckbeak flashed past him; Harry threw himself in after us and bolted the door. Fang the boarhound barked loudly.

"Shh, Fang, it's us!" said Hermione, hurrying over and scratching his ears to quieten him. "That was really close!" she said to Harry.

"Yeah…"

I walked over to Fang and patted his head.

Buckbeak seemed very happy to find himself back inside Hagrid's house. He lay down in front of the fire, folded his wings contentedly, and seemed ready for a good nap.

"I think I'd better go outside again, you know," said Harry slowly. "I can't see what's going on — we won't know when it's time —"

Hermione looked up. Her expression was suspicious.

"I'm not going to try and interfere," said Harry quickly. "But if we don't see what's going on, how're we going to know when it's time to rescue Sirius?"

"I'll go with you," I said to him.

"Well… okay, then… I'll wait here with Buckbeak… but Navi, Harry, be careful — there's a werewolf out there — and the Dementors."

Harry and I stepped outside again and edged around the cabin. We could hear yelping in the distance.

I winced at the sound of Dad in pain.

That meant the Dementors were closing in on him… Harry, Hermione and I would be running to him any moment…

Harry and I stared out toward the lake. Whoever sent that patronus would be appearing soon.

Harry seemed to freeze for a second.

And there were the Dementors. They were emerging out of the darkness from every direction, gliding around the edges of the lake… They were moving away from where Harry stood, to the opposite bank… He wouldn't have to get near them…

Harry then began to run.

I took off after him.

What was he doing _now_?

The lake was coming nearer and nearer, but there was no sign of anybody. On the opposite bank, I could see tiny glimmers of silver — our own attempts at a Patronus —

There was a bush at the very edge of the water. Harry threw himself behind it, peering desperately through the leaves. I jumped beside him.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed angrily.

On the opposite bank, the glimmers of silver were suddenly extinguished. A terrified excitement shot through me — any moment now —

"Come on!" Harry muttered, staring about. "Where are you? Dad, come on —"

But no one came.

One of the dementors was lowering its hood. It was time for the rescuer to appear — but no one was coming to help this time —

Harry flung himself out from behind the bush and pulled out his wand.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM! " he yelled.

And out of the end of his wand burst, not a shapeless cloud of mist, but a blinding, dazzling, silver animal. He screwed up his eyes, trying to see what it was. It looked like a horse. It was galloping silently away from him, across the black surface of the lake. He saw it lower its head and charge at the swarming Dementors… Now it was galloping around and around the black shapes on the ground, and the Dementors were falling back, scattering, retreating into the darkness… They were gone.

**End of Chapter 33**

_**A/N: Okay ... because of school (i'm in year 12 this year, then finally FRREEEDDDOOOMMMM) i'll most likely have a ton of homework on my plate, so updating will be sketchy and random ... so i'm trying to put out as much as i can this weekend so as not to leave you guys hanging.**_

_**And in case anyone's interested ... which they won't be ... I have a blister the size of Canada on my foot from my school shoes.**_

_**And no, it's not on my heel where people usually get them ... although, i have one of those too, ever tried wearing thongs? (Flip-flops, i think people call 'em in other countries) well anyway, it's right where the strap for those go, so i can't even wear bloody thongs to help stop the pain!**_

_**My rant is over.**_

_**Love it? Hate it? Let me know ... although, if you hate it, and have continued to read this far ... i ask if you have issues.**_


	34. Chapter 34: I Think We Broke Him

**Chapter 34: I Think We Broke Him.**

I was gaping.

Harry hadn't seen his dad.

He'd seen _himself_.

The Patronus turned. It was cantering back toward Harry across the still surface of the water. It was a stag. It was shining brightly as the moon above… it was coming back to Harry…

And it wasn't a horse …

It was a stag.

It stopped on the bank. Its hooves made no mark on the soft ground as it stared at Harry with its large, silver eyes. Slowly, it bowed its antlered head.

Harry reached out to it, but as his trembling fingertips stretched toward the creature, it vanished.

Harry stood there, hand still outstretched.

I then heard the sound of hooves.

I turned around and saw Hermione dashing toward us, dragging Buckbeak behind her.

"What did you do?" she said fiercely. "You two said you were only going to keep a lookout!"

"I just saved all our lives…" said Harry. "Get behind here behind this bush — I'll explain."

Hermione listened to what had just happened with her mouth open yet again.

"Did anyone see you?"

"Yes, haven't you been listening? I saw me but I thought I was my dad! It's okay!"

"Harry, I can't believe it… You conjured up a Patronus that drove away all those Dementors! That's very, very advanced magic."

"I knew I could do it this time," said Harry, "because I'd already done it… Does that make sense?"

No. Not really.

"I don't know — Harry, look at Snape!"

Together we peered around the bush at the other bank. Snape had regained consciousness. He was conjuring stretchers and lifting the limp forms of Harry, Hermione, me and Dad onto them. A fifth stretcher, no doubt bearing Ron, was already floating at his side. Then, wand held out in front of him, he moved us away toward the castle.

"Right, it's nearly time," said Hermione tensely, looking at her watch. "We've got about forty-five minutes until Dumbledore locks the door to the hospital wing. We've got to rescue Sirius and get back into the ward before anybody realizes we're missing…"

They waited, watching the moving clouds reflected in the lake, while the bush next to them whispered in the breeze. Buckbeak, bored, was ferreting for worms again.

"Do you reckon he's up there yet?" said Harry, checking his watch. I looked up at the castle and began counting the windows to the right of the West Tower.

"Look!" Hermione whispered. "Who's that? Someone's coming back out of the castle!"

Harry stared through the darkness. The man was hurrying across the grounds, toward one of the entrances. Something shiny glinted in his belt.

"Macnair!" said Harry. "The executioner! He's gone to get the Dementors! This is it, Hermione —"

Hermione put her hands on Buckbeak's back and Harry gave her a leg up, then did the same to me. Then he placed his foot on one of the lower branches of the bush and climbed up in front of us. He pulled Buckbeak's rope back over his neck and tied it to the other side of his collar like reins.

"Ready?" he whispered to Hermione. "You'd better hold on to me —"

I grabbed onto Hermione who latched herself onto Harry.

He nudged Buckbeak's sides with his heels.

Buckbeak soared straight into the dark air.

Hermione was holding Harry very tight around the waist; and I could hear her muttering, "Oh, no — I don't like this oh, I really don't like this —"

I was grinning, I loved the feeling of being in the air.

We were gliding quietly toward the upper floors of the castle… Harry pulled hard on the left-hand side of the rope, and Buckbeak turned.

"Whoa!" Harry said, pulling backward as hard as he could.

Buckbeak slowed down and we found ourselves at a stop, unless you counted the fact that we kept rising up and down several feet as the Hippogriff beat his wings to remain airborne.

"He's there!" Harry said, spotting Sirius as they rose up beside the window. He reached out, and as Buckbeak's wings fell, was able to tap sharply on the glass.

Dad looked up and I saw his jaw drop.

He leapt from his chair, hurried to the window and tried to open it, but it was locked.

"Stand back!" Hermione called to him, and she took out her wand, still gripping the back of Harry's robes with her left hand.

"Alohomora!"

The window sprang open.

"How — how —?" said Dad weakly, staring at the Hippogriff.

"Get on — there's not much time," said Harry, gripping Buckbeak firmly on either side of his sleek neck to hold him steady. "You've got to get out of here — the Dementors are coming — Macnair's gone to get them."

Black placed a hand on either side of the window frame and heaved his head and shoulders out of it. It was very lucky he was so thin. In seconds, he had managed to fling one leg over Buckbeak's back and pull himself onto the Hippogriff behind me.

"Okay, Buckbeak, up!" said Harry, shaking the rope. "Up to the tower — come on."

The Hippogriff gave one sweep of its mighty wings and we were soaring upward again, high as the top of the West Tower. Buckbeak landed with a clatter on the battlements, and Harry, Hermione and I slid off him at once.

"Sirius, you'd better go, quick," Harry panted. "They'll reach Flitwick's office any moment, they'll find out you're gone."

Buckbeak pawed the ground, tossing his sharp head.

"What happened to the other boy? Ron?" croaked Sirius.

"He's going to be okay. He's still out of it, but Madam Pomfrey says she'll be able to make him better. Quick — go —"

But Black was still staring down at Harry and me.

"How can I ever thank —"

"GO!" Harry, Hermione and I shouted together.

Black wheeled Buckbeak around, facing the open sky.

"We'll see each other again," he said. "You are — truly your father's son, Harry… take care of yourself Veya." he smiled at me. "You look just like her."

He squeezed Buckbeak's sides with his heels. We jumped back as the enormous wings rose once more… The Hippogriff took off into the air… He and his rider became smaller and smaller as we gazed after them… then a cloud drifted across the moon… They were gone.

"Harry!"

Hermione was tugging at his sleeve, staring at her watch. "We've got exactly ten minutes to get back down to the hospital wing without anybody seeing us — before Dumbledore locks the door —"

"Okay," said Harry, turning his gaze from the sky, "let's go…"

He grabbed my hand and dragged me away from looking to where Dad had flown away and we slipped through the doorway behind us and down a tightly spiraling stone staircase. As we reached the bottom of it, we heard voices. We flattened ourselves against the wall and listened. It sounded like Fudge and Snape. They were walking quickly along the corridor at the foot of the staircase.

"…only hope Dumbledore's not going to make difficulties," Snape was saying. "The Kiss will be performed immediately?"

Greasy git, I thought to myself.

"As soon as Macnair returns with the Dementors. This whole Black affair has been highly embarrassing. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to informing the Daily Prophet that we've got him at last… I daresay they'll want to interview you, Snape… and once young Harry's back in his right mind, I expect he'll want to tell the Prophet exactly how you saved him…"

No, he won't.

I'd punch him if he even thought aboiut it.

We caught a glimpse of Snape's smirk as he and Fudge passed our hiding place. Their footsteps died away. We waited a few moments to make sure they'd really gone, then started to run in the opposite direction. Down one staircase, then another, along a new corridor — then we heard a cackling ahead.

"Peeves!" Harry muttered, grabbing my wrist. "In here!"

We tore into a deserted classroom to our left just in time. Peeves seemed to be bouncing along the corridor in boisterous good spirits, laughing his head off.

"Oh, he's horrible," whispered Hermione, her ear to the door. "I bet he's all excited because the Dementors are going to finish off Sirius…" She checked her watch. "Three minutes, Harry!"

We waited until Peeves's gloating voice had faded into the distance, then slid back out of the room and broke into a run again.

"Hermione — what'll happen — if we don't get back inside before Dumbledore locks the door?" Harry panted.

"I don't want to think about it!" Hermione moaned, checking her watch again. "One minute!"

We had reached the end of the corridor with the hospital wing entrance. "Okay — I can hear Dumbledore," said Hermione tensely. "Come on, Harry! Hurry Navi!"

We crept along the corridor. The door opened. Dumbledore's back appeared.

"I am going to lock you in," we heard him saying. "it is five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck."

Dumbledore backed out of the room, closed the door, and took out his wand to magically lock it. Panicking, we ran forward. Dumbledore looked up, and a wide smile appeared under the long silver mustache. "Well?" he said quietly.

"We did it!" said Harry breathlessly. "Sirius has gone, on Buckbeak…"

Dumbledore beamed at us.

"Well done. I think —" He listened intently for any sound within the hospital wing. "Yes, I think you've gone too — get inside — I'll lock you in —"

We slipped back inside the dormitory. It was empty except for Ron, who was still lying motionless in the end bed. As the lock clicked behind them, we crept back to own own beds, Hermione tucking the Time-Turner back under her robes. A moment later, Madam Pomfrey came striding back out of her office.

"Did I hear the headmaster leaving? Am I allowed to look after my patients now?"

She was in a very bad mood. I accepted my chocolate quietly.

Madam Pomfrey stood over us, making sure we ate our chocolate. We waited, listening, our nerves jangling… And then, as we all took a fourth piece of chocolate from Madam Pomfrey, we heard a distant roar of fury echoing from somewhere above us…

"What was that?" said Madam Pomfrey in alarm.

Now we could hear angry voices, growing louder and louder. Madam Pomfrey was staring at the door.

"Really — they'll wake everybody up! What do they think they're doing?"

The voices were drawing nearer —

"He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out —"

"HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Snape roared, now very close at hand. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS — HAS — SOMETHING — TO — DO — WITH — POTTER — AND — BLACK!"

"Severus — be reasonable — Harry and the girl have been locked up —"

BAM.

The door of the hospital wing burst open.

Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself.

"OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

I put on a look of innocent surprise, a look the enraged potions master clearly didn't buy.

"Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself!"

"See here, Snape, be reasonable," said Fudge. "This door's been locked, we just saw —"

"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape howled, pointing at Harry, me and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth.

Gross.

"Calm down, man!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER AND BLACK!" shrieked Snape. "THEY DID IT, I KNOW THEY DID IT —"

Did we break him?

"That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?"

"Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. "I would have heard them!"

"Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry , Navi and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further."

Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behaviour, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward.

"Fellow seems quite unbalanced," said Fudge, staring after him. "I'd watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore."

"Oh, he's not unbalanced," said Dumbledore quietly. "He's just suffered a severe disappointment."

"He's not the only one!" puffed Fudge. "The Daily Prophet's going to have a field day! We had Black cornered and he slipped through our fingers yet again! All it needs now is for the story of that Hippogriff's escape to get out, and I'll be a laughingstock! Well… I'd better go and notify the Ministry…"

"And the Dementors?" said Dumbledore. "They'll be removed from the school, I trust?"

"Oh yes, they'll have to go," said Fudge, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. "Never dreamed they'd attempt to administer the Kiss on an innocent boy… Completely out of control… no, I'll have them packed off back to Azkaban tonight… Perhaps we should think about dragons at the school entrance…"

"Hagrid would like that," said Dumbledore, smiling at us.

I bet Hagrid would.

As he and Fudge left the dormitory, Madam Pomfrey hurried to the door and locked it again. Muttering angrily to herself, she headed back to her office.

There was a low moan from the other end of the ward. Ron had woken up. I could see him sitting up, rubbing his head, looking around.

"What — what happened?" he groaned. "Harry? Why are we in here? Where's Sirius? Where's Lupin? What's going on?"

Harry, Hermione and I looked at each other.

"You explain," said Harry, helping himself to some more chocolate.

I fake yawned. "Yeah, I'm exhausted."

**End of Chapter 34.**

**_Yay! Another chapter out._**

**_Don't you all feel special? _**

**_Probably not ... stupid to ask really ..._**

**_Any Victorians say up to watch the lightning last night?_**


	35. Chapter 35: Saying Goodbye

**Chapter 35: Saying Goodbye.**

When we left the hospital wing at noon the next day, it was to find an almost deserted castle. The sweltering, heat and the end of the exams meant that everyone was taking full advantage of another Hogsmeade visit. Neither Ron nor Hermione felt like going, however, so we wandered onto the grounds, still talking about the extraordinary events of the previous night and wondering where Dad and Buckbeak were now.

Hopefully someplace safe.

A shadow fell across us and we looked up to see a very bleary-eyed Hagrid, mopping his sweaty face with one of his tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs and beaming down at us.

"Know I shouldn' feel happy, after wha' happened las' night," he said. "I mean, Black escapin' again, an, everythin' — but guess what?"

"What?" we asked, pretending to look curious.

"Beaky! He escaped! He's free! Bin celebratin' all night!"

"That's wonderful!" said Hermione, giving Ron a reproving look because he looked as though he was close to laughing.

"Yeah… can't've tied him up properly," said Hagrid, gazing happily out over the grounds. "I was worried this mornin', mind… thought he mighta met Professor Lupin on the grounds, but Lupin says he never ate anythin' las' night…"

"What?" asked Harry quickly.

"Blimey, haven' yeh heard?" said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. "Er — Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'… Thought everyone'd know by now… Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose on the grounds las' night… He's packin' now, o' course."

What? Why would he do that?

"He's packing?" said Harry, alarmed. "Why?"

"Leavin', isn' he?" said Hagrid, looking surprised that Harry had to ask. "Resigned firs' thing this mornin'. Says he can't risk it happenin again."

Harry and I scrambled to our feet.

"I'm going to see him," Harry said to Ron and Hermione.

"I'm coming with."

"But if he's resigned —"

" — doesn't sound like there's anything we can do —"

"I don't care. I still want to see him. We'll meet you back here."

* * *

Lupin's office door was open. He had already packed most of his things. The Grindylow's empty tank stood next to his battered old suitcase, which was open and nearly full. Lupin was bending over something on his desk and looked up only when Harry and I knocked on the door.

"I saw you coming," said Lupin, smiling. He pointed to the parchment he had been poring over. It was the Marauder's Map.

"We just saw Hagrid," said Harry. "And he said you'd resigned. It's not true, is it?"

"I'm afraid it is," said Lupin. He started opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents.

"Why?" said Harry. "The Ministry of Magic don't think you were helping Sirius, do they?"

Lupin crossed to the door and closed it behind us.

"No. Professor Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives." He sighed. "That was the final straw for Severus. I think the loss of the Order of Merlin hit him hard. So he — er — accidentally let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast."\

"You're not leaving just because of that!" said Harry.

"You can't!" I yelled at him.

Lupin smiled wryly.

"This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents… They will not want a werewolf teaching their children, you two. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you… That must never happen again."

"You're the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had!" said Harry. "Don't go!"

I nodded in complete agreement.

Lupin shook his head and didn't speak. He carried on emptying his drawers. He then said, "From what the headmaster told me this morning, you saved a lot of lives last night, Harry, you as well, Navi. If I'm proud of anything I've done this year, it's how much you've learned… Tell me about your Patronus, Harry."

"How d'you know about that?" said Harry, distracted.

"What else could have driven the Dementors back?"

Harry told Lupin what had happened. When he'd finished, Lupin was smiling again.

"Yes, your father was always a stag when he transformed," he said. "You guessed right… that's why we called him Prongs."

Lupin threw his last few books into his case, closed the desk drawers, and turned to look at us.

"Here — I brought this from the Shrieking Shack last night," he said, handing Harry back the Invisibility Cloak. "And…" He hesitated, then held out the Marauder's Map to me. "I am no longer your teacher, so I don't feel guilty about giving you back this as well. It's no use to me, and I daresay you, both of you Ron, and Hermione will find uses for it."

I took the map with a grin.

"You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would've wanted to lure me and Navi out of school… you said they'd have thought it was funny." Harry said.

"And so we would have," said Lupin, now reaching down to close his case. "I have no hesitation in saying that James and Sirius would have been highly disappointed if their children had never found any of the secret passages out of the castle."

There was a knock on the door. Harry hastily stuffed the Invisibility Cloak into his pocket, and I did the same with the Marauder's Map.

It was Professor Dumbledore. He didn't look surprised to see me and Harry there.

"Your carriage is at the gates, Remus," he said.

"Thank You, Headmaster."

Lupin picked up his old suitcase and the empty Grindylow tank.

"Well — good-bye, Harry, Navi" he said, smiling. "It has been a real pleasure teaching you. I feel sure we'll meet again sometime. Headmaster, there is no need to see me to the gates, I can manage…"

Lupin seemed to want to leave as quickly as possible.

"Good-bye, then, Remus," said Dumbledore soberly.

I then leapt forward and hugged my Godfather, despite the tank and suitcase.

"I don't want you to go," I mumbled, and he laughed lightly.

I let go and Lupin shifted the Grindylow tank slightly so that he and Dumbledore could shake hands. Then, with a final nod to Harry and I and a swift smile, Lupin left the office.

Harry sat down in his vacated chair, staring glumly at the floor and I leant against the wall sadly. He heard the door close and looked up. Dumbledore was still there.

"Why so miserable?" he said quietly. "You should be very proud of yourselves after last night."

"It didn't make any difference," said Harry bitterly. "Pettigrew got away."

"Didn't make any difference?" said Dumbledore quietly, "it made all the difference in the world, Harry. You all helped uncover the truth. You saved an innocent man from a terrible fate."

"Professor Dumbledore — yesterday, when I was having my Divination exam, Professor Trelawney went very — very strange."

I frowned.

"Indeed?" said Dumbledore. "Er — stranger than usual, you mean?"

"Yes… her voice went all deep and her eyes rolled and she said… she said Voldemort's servant was going to set out to return to him before midnight… She said the servant would help him come back to power." Harry stared up at Dumbledore. "And then she sort of became normal again, and she couldn't remember anything she'd said. Was it — was she making a real prediction?"

What? Why didn't Harry tell me this before?

Dumbledore looked mildly impressed.

"Do you know, Harry, I think she might have been." he said thoughtfully. "Who'd have thought it? That brings her total of real predictions up to two. I should offer her a pay raise…"

"But —" Harry looked at him, aghast. "But — I stopped Sirius and Professor Lupin from killing Pettigrew! That makes it my fault if Voldemort comes back!"

"It does not," said Dumbledore quietly. "Hasn't your experience with the Time-Turner taught you anything, Harry? The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed… Professor Trelawney, bless her, is living proof of that… You did a very noble thing, in saving Pettigrew's life."

He did?

"But if he helps Voldemort back to power…"

"Pettigrew owes his life to you. You have sent Voldemort a deputy who is in your debt… When one wizard saves another wizard's life, it creates a certain bond between them… and I'm much mistaken if Voldemort wants his servant in the debt of Harry Potter."

"I don't want a connection with Pettigrew!" said Harry. I wouldn't either.

That filthy, scummy rat.

"He betrayed my parents!"

"This is magic at its deepest, its most impenetrable, Harry. But trust me… the time may come when you will be very glad you saved Pettigrew's life."

Doubtful. Very doubtful.

"I knew your father very well, both at Hogwarts and later, Harry," he said gently. "He would have saved Pettigrew too, I am sure of it."

Well, my Dad was fully prepared to murder the traitorous rat.

"I thought it was my dad who'd conjured my Patronus," Harry said. "I mean, when I saw myself across the lake… I thought I was seeing him."

"An easy mistake to make," said Dumbledore softly. "I expect you'll tire of hearing it, but you do look extraordinarily like James. Except for the eyes… you have your mother's eyes."

Harry shook his head.

"It was stupid, thinking it was him," he muttered. "I mean, I knew he was dead."

"You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs rode again last night."

Huh? I thought that Dumbledore didn't –

"Last night Sirius told me all about how they became Animagi," said Dumbledore, smiling. "An extraordinary achievement — not least, keeping it quiet from me. And then I remembered the most unusual form your Patronus took, when it charged Mr. Malfoy down at your Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. You know, Harry, in a way, you did see your father last night… You found him inside yourself."

And Dumbledore left the office, leaving Harry and I to our very confused thoughts.

**End of Chapter 35**

_**A/N: Okay, i hate this chapter, but it had to be done.**_

_**All reviews welcome.**_

_**Constructive criticism will be appreciated.**_

_**Flames will be laughed at.**_

_**Oh, and i have a nice little story to tell you all**_

_**I just got home from the city earlier.**_

_**Elena, Sophes and me were walking down Collin St, heels in hand, we got wolf whistled at by firemen ;) and recieved multiple stares, and some guy asked me to marry him.**_

_**But that's not the best part.**_

_**Our train was held up for ages in Sunshine by the cops, who arrested these two blokes six rows in front of us, who looked pretty scummy to be honest,... they got in Footscray. Then the driver said this 'sorry for the delay, this doesn't happen very often, but when it does, we put on a show'. **_

_**Best train ride ever? I think so.**_

**_I hope you all have an eventful Saturday like i did._**

**_Navi out_**


	36. Chapter 36: Oh, Yeah  Forgot About Th

**Chapter 36: Oh, yeah ... Forgot About that**

No one else at Hogwarts knew about what really happened that night. You know what one I'm talking about ... the night Dad, Buckbeak and Pettigrew got away. Only Harry, Ron, Hermione, Professor Dumbledore and I knew.

Although the theories that some people came up with were great. I have a few in writing. But none of them even came close to the truth.

Malfoy was furious about Buckbeak. He was convinced that Hagrid had found a way of smuggling the Hippogriff to safety, and seemed outraged that he and his father had been outwitted by a gamekeeper.

Serves him right.

Percy Weasley, meanwhile, had much to say on the subject of Dad's escape.

"If I manage to get into the Ministry, I'll have a lot of proposals to make about Magical Law Enforcement!" he told the only person who would listen — his girlfriend, Penelope.

Oh, and one more thing.

I hate Snape. More than before, which is saying something. Not only, did the git tell everyone about Professor Lupin, but _somehow _news leaked to the Daily Prophet that Naveya Black was still kicking. I'll give you one guess.

This meant that people were absolutely terrified of me. Neville looked like he was about to faint every time he saw me enter a room. A few other people weren't much better. Fred and George just wanted to know why I didn't tell them in the first place. The fact that I was, (and I quote), 'the daughter of a pschotic mass murderer', didn't seem to faze them whatsoever.

Thanks guys.

Although, the pressure was taken off me because of the departure of Professor Lupin

We certainly weren't the only ones who were sorry to see him go. The whole of our Defense Against the Dark Arts class was miserable about his resignation.

"Wonder what they'll give us next year?" said Seamus Finnigan gloomily.

"Maybe a vampire," suggested Dean Thomas hopefully.

Part of me wished we had stopped Pettigrew from escaping. A very large part of me.

Then Harry and I could go live with Dad … I could have a proper home, and a family.

The exam results came out on the last day of term. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I had passed every subject. My mark in potions came as a surprise though. Snape's behavior toward Harry and I over the past week had been quite alarming. A muscle twitched unpleasantly at the corner of Snape's thin mouth every time he looked at us, and he was constantly flexing his fingers, as though itching to place them around Harry's throat, or mine for that matter..

Percy had got his top-grade N.E.W.T.s; Fred and George had scraped a handful of O.W.L.s each. Gryffindor House, meanwhile, largely thanks to our spectacular performance in the Quidditch Cup, had won the House championship. This meant that the end of term feast took place amid decorations of scarlet and gold, and that the Gryffindor table was the noisiest of the lot, as everybody celebrated.

As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station the next morning, Hermione gave us some surprising news.

"I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I've decided to drop Muggle Studies."

"But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!" said Ron.

How _does _she do that?

"I know," sighed Hermione, "but I can't stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I've handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I'll be able to have a normal schedule again."

"I still can't believe you didn't tell us about it," said Ron grumpily. "We're supposed to be your friends. You told Navi."

I grinned at him. "I'm just special."

"More like mental," I heard him mutter. Hey, no arguments there.

"I promised I wouldn't tell anyone," said Hermione severely. She looked around at Harry, who was watching Hogwarts disappear from view behind a mountain.

"Oh, cheer up, Harry!" said Hermione sadly.

"I'm okay," said Harry quickly. "Just thinking about the holidays."

I grimaced.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about them too," said Ron. "Harry, Navi, you've both got to come and stay with us. I'll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now —"

"A telephone, Ron," said Hermione. "Honestly, you should take Muggle Studies next year…"

Ron ignored her.

"It's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry? Come and stay, and we'll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work."

This proposal had the effect of cheering Harry up a great deal.

"Yeah… I bet the Dursleys'd be pleased to let me come… especially after what I did to Aunt Marge…"

I laughed at the thought of her all blown up and puffy.

Feeling considerably more cheerful, Harry and I joined Ron and Hermione in several games of Exploding Snap, and when the witch with the tea cart arrived, I bought a whole of chocolate.

That should last me a couple of days ...

But it was late in the afternoon when something came that really cheered us up.

"Harry," said Hermione suddenly, peering over his shoulder. "What's that thing outside your window?"

Harry turned to look outside, and I craned my head to get a better look. Something very small and gray was bobbing in and out of sight beyond the glass. Harry stood up for a better look, and i looked around him, and saw that it was a tiny owl, carrying a letter that was much too big for it. The owl was so small, in fact, that it kept tumbling over in the air, buffeted this way and that in the train's slipstream. Harry quickly pulled down the window, stretched out his arm, and caught it. He then brought it carefully inside.

The owl dropped its letter onto Harry's seat and began zooming around their compartment, apparently very pleased with itself for accomplishing its task. Hedwig clicked her beak with a sort of dignified disapproval. Crookshanks sat up in his seat, following the owl with his great yellow eyes. Ron, noticing this, snatched the owl safely out of harm's way. I grinned openly.

Harry picked up the letter and I looked at it. It was addressed to him and me. He ripped open the letter, and shouted, "It's from Sirius!"

"What?" said Ron and Hermione excitedly. "Read it aloud!"

**Dear Harry and Veya,**

**I hope this finds you before you reach your aunt and uncle, Harry. I don't know whether they're used to owl post.**

**Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I won't tell you where, in case this owl falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about his reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job.**

**I believe the Dementors are still searching for me, but they haven't a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that the security on the castle will be lifted.**

**There is something I never got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt —**

"Ha!" said Hermione triumphantly. "See! I told you it was from him!"

"Yes, but he hadn't jinxed it, had he?" said Ron. "Ouch!" The tiny owl now hooting happily in his hand, had nibbled one of his fingers in what it seemed to think was an affectionate way.

**– Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays' worth of presents from your godfather.**

**I'll also make sure you get yours Navi. Look forward to your birthday on October 3rd.**

Oh, yeah. I forgot to ask when my birthday was ...

**I would also like to apologize for the fright I think I gave you two that night last year when you left your uncle's house. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of Harry before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed the two of you.**

**I am enclosing something else for you, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable.**

**If ever you need me, send word. Harry's owl will find me.**

**I'll write again soon.**

**Sirius**

We looked eagerly inside the envelope. There was two pieces of parchment in there. We read them through quickly and I was beaming.

**I, Sirius Black, Naveya Black's father, hereby give her permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends.**

**Harry's one was pretty much the same except for the name change.**

**I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends.**

"That'll be good enough for Dumbledore!" said Harry happily. He looked back at Sirius's letter. "Hang on, there's a PS…"

**I thought your friend Ron might like to keep this owl, as it's my fault he no longer has a rat.**

Ron's eyes widened. The minute owl was still hooting excitedly. "Keep him?" he said uncertainly. He looked closely at the owl for a moment; then, to my great surprise, he held him out for Crookshanks to sniff.

"What do you reckon?" Ron asked the cat. "Definitely an owl?"

I laughed. Hard.

Crookshanks purred.

"That's good enough for me," said Ron happily. "He's mine."

Harry and I read and reread the letter from Dad all the way back into King's Cross station.

I finally knew my birthday.

Harry was still holding the letter from Dad when we walked through the barrier of platform nine and three-quarters.

I easily spotted Harry's uncle, who looked at me in a mixture of loathing and shock.

Yeah, I hate you too, Vermin.

Anywho, so Pudgy was standing a fair distance from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, eyeing them suspiciously, and when Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry in greeting, his worst suspicions about them seemed confirmed.

"I'll call about the World Cup!" Ron yelled after Harry as Harry bid him, Hermione and me good-bye, then wheeled the trolley bearing his trunk and Hedwig's cage toward Vermin.

Then I realised something.

"How are you getting home, Navi?" Ron asked me.

"Uhh … train, I guess. I'll catch one to Surrey and then walk to the Orphanage from there."

"You'll do no such thing!"

Ron and I looked at Mrs. Weasley in alarm and confusion, and she for lack of a better term, dragged me to the cars they would be going home in.

"... Or maybe I'll bunk at your place for the summer."

Weasley hospitality ... nothing like it is there?

**End of this Story.**

**_A/N: Wait for Sequel!_**

**_Tell me your thoughts on it._**

**_Love it? Hate it?_**

**_Was Navi too spastic for you?_**

...

Here are some nice lists

I would love to thank those who favourited my story: **AliceNadeshiko, beanrocks, c7a7t7, FightingLotus, flbn, happy43, HilariouslyInsane (i love the name by the way ;), -Kurohyou, Keelia Black, lcd619, Lovely-Lethal, .girl and xNonxVivitx**

Along with everyone who alerted: **AliceNadeshiko, chickenchick, ElementUchihaMaster, FightingLotus, ****-Kurohyou, Kassanna, Lovely-Lethal, Miss F Cullen, .girl, Ratchet Jr, strawberrylily, the overcomer, Toshiba Sanders, WitchOfDarkness13, and xXLittleFlameXx.**

And finally, to my reviewers, you kept me sticking to the story, thank you: **Dani5683, ****-Kurohyou, the overcomer, Padfoot197, Ciella, Keelia Black, Allen Pitt, TragedyWings, FightingLotus, nope i dont have an acount, ********WitchOfDarkness13, Kassanna, Lovely-Lethal, yes i dont have an account, and .girl.**

**************I also love everyone who read this story, even if it was done by a feral Bacchus Babe.**

**************xoxox. Navi.**

**************And help out New Zealand ... **

**************... God does realize that 2012 isn't until next year right?**


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